Sentinels
by faolan228
Summary: Season 1 happened as it did on the show. Everything after has been molded and reshaped to my lunacy. Moral ambiguity abounds. Lying is sometimes okay for the right reasons, and genocidal rage perfectly normal. AU W/T that may or may not be a comedy.
1. Chapter 1

AU like woah. It's mostly what I'd imagine a re-boot of the series to be like, though for the most part, season one was pretty much the same. Everything afterwards I melded and transformed into some giant cluster-fuck that we'll all figure out as we go along. I am making this up as we go along, folks.

W/T definitely. Other pairings will...Fluctuate.

**Chapter One (A Slayer contemplates her life choices, and an interlude with witchy, Watcher young'uns)**

It was on nights like these, Faith decided, that a Slayer felt truly alive.

Sure, the nights where one was up against a whole nest of 30 vamps were exhilarating, and a wild chase through the sewers got the blood pumping, but _this_.

This was a hunt.

It was primal, this act of tracking down the enemy, the _prey_, in the darkness. No worrying about random bystanders, no distractions, no rushing flurry to win. The knowledge that both huntress-_Slayer_-and prey had an equal chance of taking one another out, this simple act of stealth and tracking, one that began with thousands of years ago with a single girl from the desert and would continue hundreds of years from now with a simple young thief.

A Slayer, prowling in the darkness.

Or, at least, Faith prowled. Buffy kinda just power walked through the place like she owned it.

Eh, whatever. Different stroked for different folks or some shit like that. Besides, Faith supposed the older Slayer had earned that right, taking out the Master and all.

Heh. The Master. Faith's old Watcher had always creamed her little British britches over that Doctor Who show.

…well damn. Now she had gone and made herself sad again.

Kendra, the Slayer who was called after Buffy's not-quite death, had been killed in New Mexico on her way to Sunnydale. As a result of that unprecedented chupacabra attack, Faith had been called. She and her Watcher immediately hauled ass to get to the Hellmouth.

And then her Watcher got eaten in Texas.

Jesus fuck, she hadn't even known Bigfoots were real.

And why the fuck were they even on that state's endangered species list?

And the Council _claims_ there's no Hellmouth in the southern states.

That was over several months ago. There had been some posturing at first. The world wasn't meant for two Slayers and a pissing contest was inevitable. But soon a mutual respect was formed and the two had even learned to share a Watcher. Sure, Faith still had some issues to work through, but Red hooked her up and now she had weekly therapy sessions with one of the Rosenbergs' colleagues who thankfully, was all in on what really went on in SunnyD.

And all that led to now. The two Slayers power walking and prowling in the dark, looking for some sneaky-ass demon with lightning powers. The thing had been sapping energy from the local power plant, causing blackouts, and frying small children and puppies.

And Faith _liked_ puppies, dammit. And she was pretty sure Buffy did too.

Tough chicks like Faith were allowed to get all soft over puppies. It wasn't like kittens. Getting caught cooing over those was grounds for mockery. But puppies grew into dogs, which were like _wolves_ that _obeyed_ you and that was five-by-fi-

"FAITH LOOK-OUT!"

When the lightning demon grabbed the dark haired Slayer by the throat and pumped her full of electricity, her first thought was, surprisingly, _'Don't tase me, bro!'_

Stupid Willow and her stupid viral videos.

And then her heart stopped beating.

**A Brief Interlude**

**13 years ago**

"Tamara, come here!"

The sandy haired little girl in question rushed to her mother, clasping her hand tightly. Still, wide blue eyes took in everything around her with the same curiosity found in all five year olds.

Well, okay. Four and a half.

But Tamara was a big girl now, either way. She knew because Mama said so. She'd said it a lot, since several days earlier, when Elizabeth had come to her daughter in the middle of the night and took them both away from Daddy's house.

Daddy was mean. It was always _his house_, never _their home_.

But now Tamara could forget about Daddy's house. Now they had a _castle_.

Every little girl's dream, of course. All the way across the ocean. Tamara knew, of course, because she saw it out of the window in the big plane. SWOOSH!

Tamara loved to look. To listen. To watch. Even now, as she watched her Mama talk to the man who picked them up from the airport and took them to this castle. From what she gathered, he was a friend of her Mama's from when she was Tamara's age.

What Tamara did not know was that not only Jack Tiler a childhood friend of Elizabeth's, he was also a member of one of the only organizations in the world willing to take in a homeless, jobless witch with a young daughter.

The Watcher's Council.

Not that Jack had double motives, oh no. He'd have taken Liz and her daughter in no questions asked, regardless. But, at least this way, Liz could get paid doing what she loved and her kid could get some training, too. Putting on his best smile, he offered his hand to the little girl as Liz watched on approvingly.

"Hello there, I'm Jack!" The little girl took his hand and smiled up at him, a little lopsided thing that made Jack think, _'Most definitely Liz's child.'_

"You gotta funny accent!" the child exclaimed in delight.

"And you look just like your mum! Shall I call you mini-Liz, then?"

The little girl seemed to smile even brighter now, the grin now accompanied by an arched brow.

"'m T'ara!"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: **Kinda tempted to not only use established demon-y villains here, but also to satisfy my inner crypto-zoologist, as you may have seen from the chupacabra and Bigfoot mentions in the previous chapter. We've got enough creepy shit going on in real life, and so I'm gonna assume those creatures exist in the Buffy-verse, because why not? Also, it'd be cool if you guys looked some of them up, because then it'd make me feel a whole lot better about those stories scaring the shit out of me as a child.

**Chapter Two (More life choices, and Willow makes the reader crave raspberry flavoured confectionery)**

**8 years ago**

Ten year old Tara Tiler sat in front of the two grave stones, knees curled up under her chin and feeling for the first time completely alone. This was a new feeling, and the girl honestly had no idea what to do now. As a little girl, even with her father being the way he was and Donny being a butt-head, Tara had always still had Mama. Someone to hold her and tell her she was precious and to teach her magic.

And then they had moved to England and Tara's family had only grown. Jack had, eventually, become Tara's new Daddy. The Watcher had _encouraged_ Tara's magic, and had helped nurture an already observant young mind. She remembered curling up next to her step-father in the Council's giant library, the two of the regaling each other with stories, Tara's stories being whatever she had read earlier that day and Jack's being extremely censored versions of various Watcher's reports.

Well, only censored when Mama was in earshot. The woman was a hardcore pacifist, and had nearly gone catatonic when Jack suggested that her six year old take up fencing.

Well, no one was going to Tara's tournaments now.

Her parents had been sent by the Council to investigate some goings on at a church Mawnan, Cornwall. A generational witch and a seasoned field-Watcher, it was meant to be routine: Go in, get a feel of the ley lines, interview a few locals, report back. If it had a natural explanation, leave it be. If something demonic really was going on, then the Council would intervene.

'_And we all know how well that went,_' the ten year old thought bitterly. Tara didn't need to know all the details. The funeral had been a closed casket affair, after all. _'And we're still not sure of that's all of them buried down there.' _

Stop. Stop it.

'…_but how'd they know whose limbs were whose?'_

Stop it, Tamara. Stop it right now. She dug her nails into the palm of her hands and let her hair fall over her eyes. It was a defense mechanism she never fully outgrew. She stayed that way for a few more hours, even as it began to rain. She did move once, to wave a glowing blue hand over her head to make an invisible shield from the rain.

A shield that lasted only a few minutes, as her silent rage caused her concentration to waver and the shield to dissipate. A thoroughly soaked Tara was not a particularly happy one, though she was determined.

She could hear the car pulling up, the door slamming and the man opening his umbrella. Still, she did not move. For a moment, Tara thought the rain had stopped, until she realized that the man had merely placed his umbrella over her head.

"Let's go. You'll catch your death out here."

"Train me," I wanna make Mama and Daddy proud. "Train me to be a Watcher."

"Fine then," Quentin Traverse said with a huff, hauling the girl to her feet. "But I'll tell you right now, you'll be of no use to Council with pneumonia."

**Present day**

Two weeks. It had taken Faith two weeks to completely heal up, but in Buffy's eyes that was two weeks too many. She should have been watching her sister Slayer's back, and then Faith wouldn't need to be healing at all. Faith and the others tried to convince her otherwise, but Buffy had a habit of internalizing pain when she shouldn't.

Actually, now that she thought about it, they all did. Well, the family that harbors self-destructive behaviors together fights evil together.

'_My family.' _And what a family it was. There were the most obvious, her mother and her sister Dawn. Then there was Xander and Willow. In truth, the two were her siblings just as much as Dawn was. And Giles, father figure to the whole group. And Faith.

Faith was the hardest to categorize. They were friends, yes. Comrades, allies. Equals.

Buffy took a moment to reorganize her mental checklist and put Faith in her own category.

"It's getting dark out. I should probably head out for patrol."

Giles nodded his approval, but Faith's eyes widened excitedly and she shifted to a sitting position from where she lay sprawled on the Watcher's couch.

"Wait up, B! Lemme grab my boots and we'll go." She moved to get up, but Buffy's firm hand pushed her back down.

"How about I go alone for now?" Faith opened her mouth to protest, but she carried on. "You can patrol later, but right now you should rest a little more."

Faith seemed placated by this. For the past several months, the two Slayers had been patrolling in shifts on weeknights, alternating on who would take first or second on a daily basis. They still patrolled together, or as a group with the Scoobies, during weekends or if there was something particularly terrifying about.

"Fine. But take Red with you. I think she could use the exercise." Willow let out a cry of indignation, and Faith held up her hands defensively. "Hey, no disrespect! I just mean that this thing fucked me up bad. I'd feel better if B had someone watching her back and you've been looking for a chance to flex your mojo muscles, haven't you?"

Willow glanced over shoulder at the blonde Slayer, who was currently going over her pre-Slaying checklist. "You really care about her, don't you?"

"…this isn't going to turn into one of those 'we are all friends here' moments, is this?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Well, not _now_ it isn't."

* * *

><p>"-so it's basically a seven foot tall lizard?"<p>

"You've seen it before, Wills. Big lizard. Electric blue scales." Buffy ceased her power walk for a moment to let Willow catch up to her.

"Well now, I wouldn't say _electric_ blue," the redhead said. "Electric blue is more of a cyan. That lizard was a pale blue, not quite powder, not quite Robin's egg. It looked like those raspberry flavored Airheads Dawnie loves. Yeah, that's it! Fruit snack blue. Wait, are Airheads fruit snacks or candy? Is there even a proper distinction between the two? You should really check that out before letting your sister eat so ma-"

She was interrupted by some loud, extremely panicked shouting, and Buffy's hand shot out to grab her shoulder.

"That came from the park. Something's happening."

There was a crash, and another voice shouting.

"Make that two things."

A metallic sounding screech echoed through the streets, and Buffy's mouth spread in an utterly predatory grin.

"Make that two things and a _lizard_." And with that, she **speed** walked to the park, dragging a Willow-y witch behind her. She was going to teach Electabuzz a thing or two about frying her friends. She paused.

Ew. Pokémon reference.

Sadly, Buffy's vengeful and Pocket Monster filled reverie was interrupted at the sight of Fruit Snack Lizard.

A very charred and fried looking Fruit Snack Lizard.

With what looked to be a sword jammed into its ribs.

Willow shook her by the elbow. "Buffy, look."

Off to the side, two people stood staring at the lizard, the shorter one even going so far as to prod the dead demon with their foot before stooping down and pulling the sword out. As they approached closer, Willow noted that the taller one was a girl about their age, but the shorter girl couldn't have been any older than Dawn.

Buffy noticed all these things too. That didn't stop her from pointing her finger and letting out an indignant, "Kill stealers!"

The tall girl had the decency to look embarrassed, offering the Slayer and witch a sheepish and rather lopsided grin. The other, who Willow surmised to be about 11, did the exact opposite. Puffing up her non-existent chest like some sort of rooster and grinning wide enough to take up most of her face (a truly impressive feat, as most of her face was already taken up by big, brown eyes) and proclaimed,

"You can now head back to your homes safely, ladies. Art the Vampire Slayer has saved the day!"

"…what."

The tall girl immediately snapped into action, letting out a frustrated, deflating sound, grabbing the child by the back of the shirt, and _ran_.

Buffy was still staring at the spot where they had stood, several minutes later.

"What? **What**?"

Even with knowledge that her best friend was most likely to repeat that word over and over again for the next 20 minutes in various tones and voices, Willow bit her lip and smiled to herself.

The taller girl had eyes the color of raspberry Airheads.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three (Faith is insane, But Willow is a loony.)**

"Willow! Will you slow down!" The redhead had seemingly begun to channel Buffy, as Xander had to jog to keep up with her power walk. It was lunch the next day, and Willow was in full blown panic mode. Not only had she not seen Buffy all morning, she had also left her cellphone at home.

'_It's okay,_' she told herself that morning. '_Just pretend you're living in a different decade._'

It was now Willow's firm opinion that previous decades sucked.

It was hard though, lack of cellphone and lack of Buffy during class meant that Willow had no idea what in the world was going on. That in of itself was a new feeling. Even now, she was trying to piece together what fragments of information she had.

'_Dead demon…gorgeous eyes…wait, no. Little kid claiming to be a Slayer…Very little kid, smaller than Buffy, even. Was Airhead her older sister, or something? Oh nice, Willow. Airhead? Really? Oh god, please don't let Airhead be her __**mom**__, that'd be so weird…'_

"You look," Xander paused. "So intense right now." He had been watching his best friend think, observing how the thoughts flitted through her head and how her face changed. This went beyond simple Resolve Face. This was, Willow-has-no-idea-what-is-going-on-and-it's-upsetting-her-to-the-point-of-mental-distress-and-she-will-headbutt-someone-if-she-doesn't-figure-it-out-soon Face.

Xander took half a step back, just to be sure.

"Hey, I've seen that face before!"

Xander whirled around. "Faith?"

The dark haired Slayer was standing by her open locker, sling backpack in one hand, brown paper bag in the other. Though it had been months since Giles convinced the girl to start up school again, it was still surreal to see her on campus. Even weirder when they found out she was only a Sophomore.

"Yeah, she totally looks like those lions I saw on Animal Planet." Xander chose not to ask. He knew the girl had been bedridden for several days, and that Giles' TV only got basic. "The ones who kill all the cubs so their moms can go into heat and they can mate with them? Same face, I swear."

"Faith, I hate to break it to you, but you're insane."

'_Muahahaha I am Willow and Pride Rock is mine!' _"Oh, um hi Faith," Willow jolted, having finally noticed the other girl. Wait. _'Faith injured...Fruit Snack Lizard…two weeks…new Slayer.'_

"!"

Xander and Faith stared at her blankly.

"!"

"…how are you doing that?"

Frustrated, Willow stomped her feet and made a sound that could only be described as a keyboard smash. Grabbing the other two, she pulled them down across campus till they reached the library. Pushing the doors down, Willow could not hide her excitement. She had figured it out.

"Giles the Fruit Snack Lizard killed Faith but its electricity got her heart pumping again but she was dead for a little while and so that's why there's a new Slayer but she's _tiny _so I'm kinda worried!"

She stopped, gasping for breath, chest heaving and leaning heavily on the doorframe. Willow was babble-master and could go on for far longer, but the sheer volume she forced into the run-on sentence expelled her lungs faster.

Giles cleared his throat. "We are…quite aware of this, Willow. But thank you."

The redhead blushed. There, sitting around the table and chatting amiably were Buffy, Giles, and Airhead.

The even had tea.

Faith brushed past her and plopped down next to Buffy. "'m back. Brought my lunch. And Xander. And the lunatic."

"You knew?"

Faith shrugged. "We've been discussing it all morning."

"Didn't you get my message, Wills?" Buffy was waving her own phone around. "'Come meet us in the library at lunch, we have news'?"

"Oh."

"Well come on and sit down then, you two," Giles Pulled up two more chairs for Xander and herself. "There are introductions that need to be made."

Xander plopped down in his seat and Willow turned to Giles. "So you all already know about that eleven year old Slayer?"

"T-twelve." _'Jesus Christ, Tara. Did you just stutter?'_

Willow's head whipped around like a dog's. "Huh?" _'Ohmigod cute stutter!'_

"Artie. She's twelve."

"Oh."

Faith and Buffy locked eyes and tried to contain guffaws. The fact that Willow was gayer than Liberace at the Playboy Mansion was a bit of an open secret. It was obvious, though everyone had seemed to unanimously decide to keep quiet about it unless Willow spoke up first.

Giles cleared his throat.

This seemed to snap Tara out of her trance. "Oh, um sorry. That was rude of me. I'm Tamara Tiler, but," she offered Willow a lopsided grin and the redhead looked like she was about to faint. "You can call me Tara. I'm Artie's Watcher."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 (Willow-crush and dweebie-dorks)**

"You can call me Tara. I'm Artie's Watcher."

Xander held up his hand. "Woah, okay. You lost me there."

"You _are_ pretty young," Willow nodded. _'Scratch that. You are pretty. Period.'_

"-and you dress like a normal person! Lookit! No tweed."

"Ahem."

Buffy blushed. "Sorry Giles."

"Fair enough," the elder Watcher sniffed. "Though I think Miss Tiler could better answer your questions if you gave her a chance to speak?"

It was once of those cool moments, Buffy decided, where everyone turned their heads in unison, the way they did on TV, and only ever happened rarely in real life. For all intents and purposes though, Tara did not seem to find this as awesome as they did, and looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"It's okay," Willow whispered soothingly, sliding her hand across the table to take hold of Tara's. "It's your story; you can take as long as you want. And I'm pretty sure no one else wants to head back to class, anyway."

'_Whoa,_' Buffy glanced around the table to see if anyone had the same reaction as her. Willow had been repressing herself for what seemed like an eternity, and then Watcher-girl comes along and Willow was suddenly all with the touching and the class skipping. '_Go Willow!_'

Tara smiled warmly at the redhead, jerking her head to the side in a movement that served to flick her bangs out of her eyes. "My mum was a witch and my step-father was a Watcher. I kinda grew into it, I suppose."

Willow rubbed her thumb along Tara's knuckles encouragingly and was rewarded a smile for her efforts.

"I guess I'd been trained to be a Watcher since I was little, but my real training didn't begin until I was about ten. I completed my training last year, when Artie was assigned as my Potential. I still have to check in with my superiors from time to time though."

"Assigned as your whatsit?" Buffy blurted, confused.

Tara looked at her incredulously, and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Artie was assigned as my Potential Slayer. Whom I train."

The three main Scoobies looked rather confused, though Faith stared at her blonde counterpart as if she had dribbled on her shirt. And then licked it up again.

"A Potential?" Faith prodded. "A girl who _might_ end up a Slayer, assigned a Watcher to train them? Seriously B, have you been living under a rock?"

"Well I-"

"Buffy is a bit of a special case," Giles interrupted. "She did not meet her first Watcher until around the time she was called."

"I didn't know this!" The aforementioned Slayer exclaimed. "I thought that was the normal Slayer shtick!" She turned her big, distressed eyes to her Watcher. "Giles, does this mean I'm like, developmentally delayed?"

"Ah, Tara? Please do carry on."

"Smooth," Faith snorted.

"That's," she swallowed. "That's pretty much it."

"Pretty much it?" Willow leaned closer, determined to hear more. "You're a Watcher! But _young_! Giles went through Watcher training too and he's ancient!"

Giles seemed to puff up indignantly. "I'll have you know that I am only-"

"Well, Mister Giles, you trained with the research department, didn't you?"

"Well yes," he straightened the lapels on his jacket. "And Historical European Martial Arts," he sniffed.

Tara nodded with approval. "Well of course. You _do_ have Slayer to train. I-I was part of the Sentinel program."

Xander interrupted the two. "Wait, there are different _kinds_ of you guys?"

"What, you assumed we all wore tweed and spent all our time reading?" She caught Willow's eye, mirth shining in her own.

'_I'm pretty sure she could pull off the librarian look no problem_,' Willow mused to herself. _'Aaand there you go again, Rosen-perve!'_

"There's the administrative folks, that's who Mister Giles and I answer to," Tara began ticking off with her fingers. "Then there's the research fellows who usually get assigned Potentials and Slayers," she said with a nod to Giles.

"Don't forget the archaeology department," the elder Watcher said.

"Oh, right. A whole network of grunts and secretaries…We've got some witches, too. Not many though, since we got the Devon coven on retainer…"

Willow tried to edge closer. Being on the other side of the table, this merely dug the edge it into her stomach. "And Sentinels? What are those?"

"Sentinels. I'm one. Basically, a field-Watcher. You only get one-well three now-Slayers at a time, but demons are a world-wide phenomenon. Sentinels are Watchers who're trained in combat, usually as teams, to take out demonic threats, conduct preliminary investigations, take out any Slayers that go rouge-"

"What?"

"Yeah, it's a cheesy title. But hey, sentinel? One who _watches_ and _guards_? It fits, right?" Willow smiled. Finally, someone else with a quirky sense of humor.

"No, that last thing you said."

"What? The part about taki-" Tara froze. "Oh."

"_Yeah_, oh."

"W-well, no one's had t-to d-do that for years n-now." Both Slayers seemed torn between leaning forward to scrutinize her, and wanting to back-the-fuck-up. Faith chose the middle ground, leaning back in her chair casually.

"A Watcher who can fight? That's a new one."

Tara quirked her brow. "What are you talking about? _All_ Watchers know how to fight. How do you think we train our Slayers? It's a requirement."

Buffy turned to look at her own Watcher, polishing off his glasses. He had been the one to train her to fight, and realized that despite being no match for her or Faith, Giles could most certainly hold his own in a fight, more so than most. Had he been a younger man, Buffy had no doubt that her Watcher could outlast most vampires in a fight.

"Wait," Xander said. "I thought it was the research-y guys who got Slayers, not Sentinels."

"W-well," Tara blushed and ducked her head. "The Potentials who are too young to be Called anytime soon, o-or the least likely to be Called are assigned to a S-sentinel to work as an assistant of s-sorts. If they survive long enough," something in the way she said that made Willow think they didn't often. "They can choose to be inducted into the Sentinel program. On the off chance they do get Called, the Council hoped that their experience with the Sentinels would make a pretty kick-ass Slayer, if you pardon my language."

"What do you mean, 'On the off chance'?" Buffy's eyes narrowed. She was supposedly working for the Council, yet there was so much she didn't know.

"It's never happened before," Giles interrupted. "Slayers don't live long, even with their powers. Unfortunately, Potentials assigned to the Sentinels are even worse off, being extremely young and having no powers to help them deal with demonic threats. It's akin to scraping the bottom of the metaphorical barrel."

The words were barely out of his mouth when Tara leapt to her feet. "Artie's a survivor, dammit," she snarled, all trace of her faint stutter gone. "And I'm gonna make sure that child lives to have a fantastic life, no matter how difficult it gets for me."

**Meanwhile at Sunnydale Junior High**

Dawn grimaced at the other girl she was supposed to be helping to the nurse's office, dodging the 7th and 8th graders as she led her fellow 6th grade brunette through the halls.

"You're Aar-"

"Everyone calls me Art."

"Oh. Okay."

"But yeah. I is me!" Dawn felt that the other girl's huge grin was entirely inappropriate for the situation.

"That's cool. Me is Dawn." Well, okay. So maybe talking weird _was_ funny. She grasped Art by the elbow and pulled her aside as Derren Giannino barreled towards the cafeteria. "Can I ask how you-"

"I wanted to test it out," Art said, flexing her fingers. "See how much better my pain tol-" she stopped herself, and tried to say something else. "Cuz you see, it's only been two weeks since-" she stopped again, still not sure what to say. Her lips pursed for a moment and Dawn stopped walking too, waiting in anticipation.

"Forget it," she said, curling her injured hand towards herself and continuing on to the nurse's office. Finally reaching it, she raised her uninjured hand to push the door open.

"Wait!" Dawn's hand shot out and grasped Art by the elbow again. Big brown eyes peered at her questioningly. "Just wanted to let you know, the medical staff is a bit loony."

"Ha! In this town, I bet they are." She waved goodbye with her undamaged hand, pushing the door open with her shoulder. Dawn stood there, turning to leave only when the bell rang.

'_What does she mean by 'I bet they are'? Does she know about the weird stuff that goes on at night?'_

"HOW DID YOU END UP STAPLING YOUR HAND TO YOUR SLEEVE?" The nurse's shouting could be heard even from behind the door.

"Dork," Dawn muttered, scurrying to class.

**Meanwhile, back at the library**

Giles muttered an apology, cleaning his glasses again. Willow glared at him, still holding Tara's hand after all this time.

"No, I-I should be the one who's sorry."

'_There goes that stutter again,'_ Willow mused. _'She seems to do it when she's uncomfortable, like Giles and his glasses.'_

"Wait," Buffy was glancing from Tara to Giles with a look of distress on her face. "Does this mean the new Slayer's been killing demons for a year before she even got her powers?" By this point, Faith was beginning to catch on, and her shoulders began shaking with mirth. "Giiiiiles! I am delayed! We need to train more!"

Ignoring Buffy's whining and Faith's jeers, Willow swallowed and squeezed Tara's hand. "Hey."

The young Watcher's mouth twitched. "Hey."

"You know, a couple months back, I made a slaying schedule for these two dweebs," she jerked her chin over to the two Slayers, one heckling the other.

"R-really? That's pretty cool."

"Heh, insane more like. I use a system of different colored pens, so we know who's doing what, when and where."

Tara giggled, and the redhead decided she liked that sound. "I wouldn't say insane. Maybe…quirky?"

"Quirky works," she ran her thumb over the sandy haired girl's knuckles absentmindedly. "So I was thinking…"

"Yes?"

"Maybe you wanted to meet up sometime? Work on a new schedule? To fit in your Slayer?"

"I'd like that, Willow. I'd like that a lot."

Having been entranced by the Watcher's story, then with Buffy's distress, and now by each other, the two young women failed to notice the blue and red sparks the appeared whenever their hands touched.


	5. Chapter 5

cyteach: Thanks for the review! Though Tara would like to point out, Artie is 12. She's just small.

**Chapter 5 (Showdown at Restful Groves and A Coffee not-a-Date) **

Buffy and Faith stared.

"Kid, **what** are you wearing?"

Art looked down at her brown cargo shorts and dark green T-shirt, then back at the two older Slayers. "It's a late summer night in Southern California. What are _you_ wearing?"

Buffy looked at her and Faith's leather/denim ensembles a bit guiltily. It _was_ kinda hot. "Um, let's get started, shall we? Tara and Giles wanted us to see how well we worked with each other."

There was no way this kid was a Slayer. No way.

When she had heard that the new Slayer was a kid, Faith had been a little excited. A little person who could potentially be as awesome as herself, right? Now though, as she watched Art amble her way through the graveyard, weaponless, there was absolutely no way.

Amble.

Mosey.

Meander.

Whatever. The point was, the kid walked like a puppy who had yet to grow into its paws, a far cry from Faith's own Slayer prowl or Buffy's confident stride.

The only sound was that of footwear rustling through the grass, until Buffy spoke up. "Sooo…Sunnydale Junior High? My sister Dawn goes there."

Art seemed to perk at this. "Dawn's your sister?"

"Yeah! You know her?"

"She helped me to the nurse's office the other day. She's cool."

Faith scowled from the gravestone she was leaning on. "You two realize you're shouting from opposite sides of the 'yard, right?"

And then it happened.

Years later, when they recounted it, they would say it happened in slow motion. Well, they would also gesticulate wildly and make exaggerated facial expressions, but mostly that they could've sworn it was in slow-mo.

Art walked right into an extremely panicked, previously unnoticed demon.

Well, not so much 'walked into' as much as she had 'tripped over a rock and pitched herself headfirst into its flailing arms'.

This demon was of the 'short, squat, red, and spiky' ilk, and blinked owlishly down at Art as she fell on her ass.

Artie stared back up at it.

The demon's chest heaved, its earlier panic forgotten as it assessed this potential threat.

"What are you doing?" Buffy shrieked from several yards away. "Slay it!"

The demon let out a roar, revealing rows and rows of pointy, needle teeth. Art stood up, fists clenched. She was ready. She was a Slayer, dammit! Time to slay. She cocked her fist, ready to throw a punch.

-and was promptly picked up and chucked into the nearest open grave.

Buffy's jaw dropped, and Faith's hands flew to her hair. "What. The. Fuck."

They both rushed over, Faith to kick ass and Buffy to check on the kid, and were promptly shoved aside.

Buffy gasped as the creature tried to shoulder past them a second time. "Oof! For a short thing, he sure is pushy!"

"Puns? Now? Really, B?" Faith dodged a flailing arm, ramming her elbow into the demon's own with some rather ineffective results. She leapt out of the way as the demon's pin-wheeling arms propelled him further down the gravel path.

"Gotta get out gotta get out gotta get out-"

"I think he's saying something," Buffy wheezed as she was shoved roughly into a cross shaped gravestone, the marble digging into her gut painfully.

"-not safe here…not safe here..gotta get out gotta get out-" the red, flailing demon ranted.

"Damn straight you aren't safe here," Faith snarled, planting her hands on the gravestone of one Daphne Jones and performing a palm spin, Slayer speed and balance kicking in to turn the flashy move into one extremely devastating blow to the head.

The demon grunted, but continued its mission down the gravel path and out into the street. "The First…the Deceiver," he rambled. "Crows will pick our bones…the Wicked!"

"Gee, I bet you wooed all the ladies with those poems," Buffy heckled.

"The walls are coming down…gotta leave the Hellmouth…"

"You mean _your_ walls are coming down!" Buffy took a running start and launched herself over Velma Rogers' grave with a Kong vault that would make David Belle proud.

Sadly, it only resulted in her colliding with her dark haired counterpart, who at the same time had been aiming an axe kick to the demon's head. The two hit the ground with a grunt. Between her accident from two weeks previous, to the apparent failure of tonight, Faith felt her temper explode.

"You complete clown-shoes dumbass!" Buffy scowled, ready to spit back a retort when a small voice cut them off.

"Someone say my name?" There was Artie, bruised and dirty, but alive and clutching a sword that Buffy was sure she didn't have on her earlier. She still didn't look much like a Slayer, more like a small child playing hero in the dirt. Faith still couldn't see it.

"Crows will pick our bones…the Wicked will destroy…the deceiver, the First-"

"Oh _shut up_!" The girl stabbed, twisting her blade as it slid in and tried not to feel satisfied at the sound of cleaving bond and wet flesh. She held the demon by the shoulder, Slayer strength utilized as she eased the dying demon to the ground.

'_Oh_,' Faith thought. '_There it is_.'

Artie frowned at the older two Slayers, all little girl now. "Do you guys know why its last words were 'Gay vampire'?"

**At the Espresso Pump**

"You think they're okay?"

Willow looked up from where she had been staring awkwardly into her mocha. "I'm sorry?"

"Artie and your friends. Do you think they're okay?"

While Buffy and Faith had agreed to take out the youngest Slayer for patrol, Willow had met up with Tara at the coffee shop for a quick date while they waited.

'_Well, it was actually to work out that schedule,_' the redhead frowned. '_But baby steps, Willow. You can't just go flinging yourself at hotties._'

"Y-you're frowning." The young Watcher's eyes were wide, and she looked like she was ready to bolt out the door at any moment and rescue her Slayer.

"Oh! Sorry, yeah. They'll be fine. Buffy and Faith are totally responsible."

'_Liar!'_

Tara took a sip of her frappuccino. "You probably think I'm insane. It's just," she sighed and sat up. "This'll be her first patrol without me."

Willow giggled and winked. "I'd say quirky."

Tara snorted, and soon collapsed into a helpless fit of giggles, Willow joining her. "So we're both insane?"

"I said quirky!"

"I assumed quirky was a euphemism for insane!"

Willow snorted. "And what would you know about euphemisms, Watcher-girl?" she leered.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Tara purred.

Willow's eyes bulged. '_Oh. Wow_.'

'_That came out far more suggestive than planned_,' Tara scolded herself. '_She's a hot-smart girl, and now she'll think you're a slut!'_

"So…"

"Yeahh…"

"Schedule?" Tara squeaked.

"Oh, yeah!" Willow shoved her hand into her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper, sliding it onto the table. "Look here. It's mostly a modified version of the one I made before. You can look it over and see if it's good."

Tara lifted the paper, analyzing it. Mondays through Fridays, Artie would patrol for three hours, starting from sundown. Faith and Buffy alternated on who took which the last two shifts, and on weekends they all patrolled as a group.

"I put Art on first since she's the youngest."

Tara nodded. "Growing girl needs her sleep."

"See, pink ink is Buffy, silver is Faith, and I just used a black pen for Art since I didn't know her favorite color."

Tara smiled. "It's purple."

"Ah, okay!" The redhead waved her hand over the paper, and right before Tara's eyes, the black ink changed to bright purple. She gaped.

"You're magic too?"

**At Restful Groves Cemetery**

"Ta' is gonna _kill_ me," Art was perched on Fredrick Jones' grave. Her green T-shirt, dirty as it was, had been removed and the pre-teen was now clad in a grey tank top. The poor shirt was now being used to wipe the blood off her blade.

"Where'd the sword come from?" Buffy was staring at the blade, wide eyed with curiosity.

"Huh?"

"C'mon!" Faith was grinning. "You've got like, seven pockets in those shorts, but I'm pretty sure you didn't carry it in those."

The kid held up the rapier. It wasn't adorned like most rapiers the two had seen. It was unremarkable in appearance, much like a cougar next to a tiger, though it didn't take away from its efficiency. It was a weapon made for killing, and that was that. The only thing of interest was the bright green skin that covered the grip.

"Naga demon skin. It's enchanted, so the sword shows up whenever I need it."

Buffy blinked. "Naga?"

"It's like," Artie paused. "Big, magic snake-person. This was months ago, before I got Called."

"And you killed and skinned it?" Faith prompted. Baby Slayer was a _badass_.

The child shook her head. "Nononono! Me without powers? Against a giant, magic snake-person? No way! Ta' did it."

The two Slayers' eyes widened. Well, Faith's did. Buffy's were already there. "Your Watcher?"

Okay then. Watcher-girl Tara was the badass. That was still cool. With badass Watcher and kick-ass Faith around, the kid could still grow into a fuckawesome Slayer.

"Yup!" She lifted the blade, admiration for her Watcher evident on her face. "Saga Vasuki ain't got shit on Tara."


	6. Chapter 6

A/n: And here's where we reach the point of realistic human moral ambiguity. Not sure if you'd uncomfortable with this, or of I'm making mountains out of molehills.

**Chapter Six (Yay! Ice Cream! and Spontaneous Magical Willow-gasm.)**

"You're magic too?"

Tara spoke the words in that whisper that really wasn't a whisper, the kind that teenagers used in the library to purposely piss off the librarian.

"Um, I guess. Well, not guess, since I obviously am…so yes?"

Tara grasped Willow's hand, an utterly delighted expression on her face. "So not only are you some sort of super genius, you're a witch too?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _genius_," Willow preened.

Tara gaped at her, picking up the schedule and waving it around. "Not genius? Look at this! You take into account different factors most Watchers wouldn't even consider and made a schedule for **saving the world**, and you're a witch. That sounds pretty genius to me."

Despite the odd looks they were receiving from the staff, Willow broke into a huge grin. '_She__** likes**__ my neurotic tendencies?_

Tara rubbed her finger on the now purple ink, taking a moment to delight in finding another Slayer-helping witch, and another, longer moment to enjoy Willow's smile. Then she looked at her hand. Some of the ink had rubbed off on her skin.

That wasn't what made her stop.

The ink rubbed off into her skin was still purple.

"W-woah."

Willow cocked her head to the side. "What is it?"

Tara's eyes snapped back up to her, delighted blue eyes glinting with something else now, too. "What spell did you use?"

"Why does it matter?"

"The kind of spell _always_ matters, Willow."

The hacker blushed, eyes wide. "Oh. Oh, I didn't know that. There's a lot I don't know yet, which kinda makes me mad, because for years _no one_ knew more than I did. About anything. So if there are rules and stuff that I don-"

"Willow." Tara quirked her brow, and Willow was a goner.

"I really didn't think about it. You said purple, so I needed the ink to be purple, so I made it purple."

Tara stared at her, and that thing in her eyes had a name now.

Awe.

It wasn't a look Willow was used to getting.

"You didn't think about it?"

Willow shook her head. "Nope."

"At all?"

"No siree."

Tara shut her mouth and licked her dry lips, giving Willow a view of tantalizing Tara-tongue. "I thought you just used a glamour, t-to make the ink_ look_ purple." She held up her ink stained hand. "Glamours only fool the eyes. Touch, scent, stuff like that? Usually enough to break most glamour spells."

"And what I did?"

Tara held her stained hand out to Willow, palm up. Willow instinctively reached out her own hand to let her fingertips rest on those of the young Watchers. "You," Tara swallowed. "You _physically_ changed it from one color to another."

She spared another glance to the paper in her other hand. "And," the corners of her mouth twitched with mirth. "Apparently changed it from ball-point to gel-pen."

The redhead pouted. "Gel-pens are shiny."

This awarded her with another lopsided Tara-grin. '_She's being defensive and it's adorable.'_

"So how long have you been practicing?" Tara probed, taking another sip of her frappuccino.

Willow pursed her lips in thought for a moment. "I'd say about three months, give or take."

Tara lurched forward in her seat, choking on her drink. "Are you kidding?"

Distressed Willow eyes made their appearance. "Did I do something wrong?"

Tara shook her head violently. "N-no! Never. It's just," she locked eyes with the redhead. "I've been practicing my whole life, and I _still _have trouble with transfiguration."

Willow's jaw dropped. "So you mean I'm a nerdy freak with magic, too?"

Tara jumped in her seat, hands held up in front of her. "Nonono never!"

"…not a nerdy freak?" Willow asked shyly.

"Nerds are in this year," Tara winked conspiringly. "And I'll have you know I can get a bit freaky too."

Willow's eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline, and Tara froze at her own words. '_Oh god_,' she thought with sudden horror. '_Everything is diiirtyyyy!_'

Still, Watcher's constitution won out in the end, and Tara managed to recover with only a cough and the flicking of her bangs over her eyes. "B-basically, you're a lot more powerful than witches your level should be at. A lot more."

Willow flushed. "Oh no, I'm not anything special."

"Oh but you are," the young Watcher said, completely serious.

"But there's so much I need to learn! There are rules, right? Rules I don't know?"

"I could teach you."

The tiny, naughty, dirty part of Willow's mind thrilled at the idea of teacher-Tara, but she forced her overactive, 17 year old girl hormones down. "Really? You would?"

The hope and excitement in the redhead's eyes made Tara melt. "I've trained my whole life, so I think I'd be pretty qualified." She winked. "Plus, I taught Art how to be a Slayer, and she turned out fine."

At that moment, all three Slayers stumbled into the cafe, dirty and bruised.

"Caffeine!"

"Food!"

"Yay ice cream!"

Tara turned to the wide-eyed redhead sitting across from her. "I've been a witch longer than I've been a Watcher," she reassured quickly.

Art's roving eyes landed on the two witches and she grinned like a lunatic. "Ta'! Lookit! Cotton candy ice cream! And it's pink **and** blue!"

"It's _eleven thirty_, Artie."

"But it's Friday!"

Tara muttered the girl's full name under her breath warningly, causing the child to pale and Faith, who had heard, to snort into her overly caffeinated beverage.

The twelve year old quirked her brow. "Scone and hot cocoa, then?"

"Ooh," Willow interrupted. "Get the Panini sandwich!"

Tara observed as her Slayer cocked her head to the side. "Is it any good?"

Willow nodded. "Grilled bread, chicken, tomatoes," she listed.

"Onions?"

The redhead wrinkled her nose. "Onions are icky."

Artie nodded gravely. Mutual onion hatred was something she could understand. Taking a five dollar bill from Tara, she trotted off to the cashier.

"Ah dun geddit," Buffy said around a mouthful of chicken salad sandwich. "Wah jus 'appened?"

**Monday**

"Hey, Willow!" Tara's voice rang out, almost unheard over the ring of the bell and the clamor of the students.

The redhead's head snapped towards the source of the voice like a well-trained terrier. "Tara?"

The sandy-haired Watcher was grinning at her lopsidedly, brow quirked in lieu of a hello. Willow eyed the messenger bag at her hip. "I didn't know you were a student!"

Tara rolled her eyes. "Not really. I'm a Watcher, remember? High paying job, Council education, etcetera." She winked. "It's part of my cover."

Willow giggled. "Cover? What, are you playing secret agent now?"

"But shh, you mustn't tell anyone," Blue eyes twinkled in delight. '_We're bantering! Love a good banter. Hadn't had one in a while. Artie's a snarker._'

"No, but really?"

Tara shrugged. "The Council is all with the, '_Get close to the other Slayers_,' and whatnot."

"So am I your ticket in?" Willow teased.

"Oh yes," the young Watcher said in all seriousness. "This is all actually a spy movie. I seduce you for information and various reconnaissance related stuffs."

The two girls stared at each other silently, defiantly, almost nose to nose.

Willow was the first to break down in giggles. "Okay, okay! You win."

"I have mostly free periods during the morning, so I technically don't even have to be here till around lunch."

"Oh. Did the Council set that up, so you can help Giles with demon-y research?"

Tara grinned cheekily. "That too. Mostly because I'm a smarty."

"Me too! Well, I'd have lots of free periods too, but then there're these things that I want to learn, and-"

"Wanna find an empty classroom with me?"

"Wh-" Willow stared. '_This_ _is so sudden! I wanted to woo her with my witty, geekish charm!_' she swallowed. '_Maybe they do things different in those British schools? Okay, calm down Rosenberg! You can do this!_'

"You know? To work on your magic?"

'_Fuck!_'

Willow blinked, finally realizing how close she was to reenacting a cliché Harry Potter PWP. "Yeah, sure! I have a free period right now."

'_Liar!'_

"Oh yay!" Tara bounced on the balls of her feet happily.

"Boobies!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I-I said Scoobies! The library! Where we have Scooby meetings! It's usually empty around this time of day. _'Nice going, Rosen-perve! You said the inside thing on the outside!_'

"Let's do this?"

"Let's do this!"

* * *

><p>"I can't do this!"<p>

Willow slumped backward, fwumping her head on the table as Tara looked on despairingly. Four hours had passed, their efforts proving fruitless. Whereas a normal person would have given up by now, something inside Willow snapped. Whether it was her natural drive for knowledge, or the almost instinctual desire to impress Tara, she didn't know. All she knew was it was making it difficult for her to just give up.

Until now.

"I'll never get any better at this rate," she said morosely.

"Welllll," Tara dropped her head next to the redhead's. "You have only been doing magic for three months. Most people would say you're really advanced." She turned her eyes away from Willow's pout and stared at the ceiling.

'_Huh. Two girls sprawled on a table in an empty library. I think I've read this one_.'

"Besides," she continued. "This session wasn't about getting stronger." She propped herself up on her elbow, bangs falling over one eye. "You're plenty strong already. This was to help build control. Once you can control the magic you have, _then_ we'll work on mastering all sorts of spells."

"But I _can't_!"

Tara leaned down closer. "You **can**. Just…focus your mind a little."

"Have you met me?" Willow asked pithily.

"Okay," Tara sat up on the table, hauling Willow up into a seating position too. "This should help, but I'll tell you right now, it might feel weird. Never done this on anyone before." She placed two finger's on the redhead's forehead.

"Wh-"

And then Willows vision went blue.

Optimum

Synaptic

Transmission

Achieved

Seconds, minutes, _hours_ later she shot up on the table, gasping, not even realizing she had lain back down, before slumping over again in a boneless heap.

"Whu wassa-?"

Why was she having trouble speaking? Why, when everything in sight was so clear, so crisp, when the very lungfuls of air she sucked in seemed so cool? Why when-

- so- many- things-

-seemed so obvious?

Tara bit her lip. "J-just a little boost, to help you focus. I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I should've a-asked for p-permission-"

"Tara," Willow placed her hand on the other girl's knee. "Whatever that was," Amazing. "It helped."

"I probably shouldn't do it often, though." It was true. Though having no malicious intent, other witches would consider Tara's little stunt a Bad Thing. "Energy transference like that end in nose bleeds for everyone."

A trick she had learned from observing a black magic dealer or two on various Sentinel cases, the spell was modified by Tara herself. Rather than invading the other person's magic, taking it, and forcing your own in, this was another act entirely. Not black magic. Just Tara. Tara-magic, freely given with nothing in return. The euphoric side-effect was still there, though. That was one kink she never managed to work out of it.

"Oh," Willow said breathlessly. "Guess we shouldn't use that for studying, huh?"

"Right-o," A beat. "Can we not say anything to Rupert about this spell?"

Willow squirmed, though whether from the intensity of the blue-eyed girl's gaze or the sticky wetness coating the insides of her thighs she did not know.

"O-okay."

'_Yep. __**Definitely**__ no mentioning this spell to Giles.'_

"You wanna continue the lesson?"

"Oh you go right ahead," Willow nodded. Well, more like she jerked her chin in an attempt to look like she didn't care and failed miserably. "I'll just…sit here…and listen. And sit. Here."

"Okay." With an awkward smile, Tara hopped off the table and turned to face her. "Let's start from the top. Personally, I think you'd do well to start off on daily meditation and-"

Willow listened with half an ear, trying not to rub her thighs together or make some sort of spectacle of herself. In doing so, she did not notice how the sandy-haired witch's nostrils flared, or the blush on her cheeks as she subconsciously licked her lips at the scent.

'_Do Want!'_

As to which girl thought that is something I cannot say.


	7. Chapter 7

Cyteach: Thanks for another insightful and encouraging review! :D

Pray For Me. Pray and Invisabell, thanks for the Alerts!

Also, not gonna lie. I scared myself writing the first few paragraphs of this chapter and refused to open the document to write more because I was afraid of reading what I'd already written.

**Songs listened to while writing this chapter for inspiration:**

**Silent Hill Theme**

**The Devil is in the Details by The Chemical Brothers **** This I've decided is Art's unofficial theme song. Plays whenever she's being stupid.**

**Up is Down by Hans Zimmer**

**Chapter 7(This chapter is one perpetual ass-kicking for Artie)**

It had lived in this house for generations.

This house, on the Hellmouth, since before the town itself was founded.

Human kind had an instinctual fear of the dark, though very few knew as to why, and most that did were Sunnydale locals. The common demons that roamed the streets at night were just that, common. They sported spikes, poisons, and bright colors in a similar manner to insects and lizards in the wild: a deterrent for the true demons. 'Do not eat me!' they said.

True demons, like this one, did not care.

There was no need to sport any sort of bright coloration. True demons, like the Turok-han, the Gentlemen, and this one had no natural predators.

They shared the same common features: Pale, grey skin and sunken in eyes. Elongated faces. Sharp teeth. Humanoid enough that the mere sight of them was truly off-putting. These were all characteristics shared by many fictional horrors as well, as if their creators subconsciously knew that these very features were what terrified humans the most.

These were the features that were permanently imprinted into the memories of mankind's earliest ancestors, the features that lurked just beyond where the light could reach, and the features that children see in the cracks of their closet doors.

This one was smaller than the Gentlemen or the Turok-han, or its other demonic brethren, but it was a true demon, no doubt. Ever feel, late at night, a soft pressure at the foot of the bed? Not comforting at all, instead your body tenses because even in your sleepy haze, you know that Something Doesn't Belong?

It's Him.

Ever wake up in the middle of the night to see a hunched, emancipated figure in your room that you brush off as a dream before rolling over and falling back asleep?

That's also Him.

Ever have sleep paralysis, in that terrifying space between dreaming and wakefulness as something bears down on you while you lay, leaving you immobile and unable to scream?

He's testing you.

Ever have pets go missing, even though they're indoor pets?

Him, too.

There were new people moving into the house. With, by the sounds of it, children. He loved children, loved tormenting them. They saw the truth in Him, and their terror was absolute and pure. Adults denied and denied, and teenagers fought, caught between the childhood _knowing_ and the adulthood denying of the inevitable.

Boxes were being placed on floors, and furniture was being pushed about. The child's hands probed in the darkness, and His lipless mouth split open in a dead man's grin. There was a flash, and the mouthful of needle-teeth clamped down. **Hard**.

Artie's hand jerked back from the closet at the unexpected pain, bringing the demon with it. The thing was a naked and grey human in miniature, head too large for its 10 inch long body.

"Eww!" She threw the tiny demon to the ground and stomped on it. Furiously. Into mush.

Tara poked her head in through the doorway, hefting a box of personal belongings in her arms. "A bit too old to have monsters in your closet, aren't you?"

"He bit me," Art scowled, licking at her injured hand.

"Quit licking it!" Tara snapped.

Her Slayer waved her hand at her, showing that the wound was already healing. "I know it's only been like, a month, but seriously. Slayer now. No need to worry about my boo-boos anymore."

"Please, continue humoring my neurotic, maternal tendencies," The Watcher quirked her brow at the demon pudding. "I'd watch out if I were you. Those things travel in packs."

"Yeah, yeah! I'm all Big-Slayer-Girl now. I can deal."

Tara rolled her eyes good naturedly before moving to her room across the hall. "And clean that mess up!"

The two had, for their first few days in Sunnydale, been staying in a cheap, crappy apartment paid for by the Council. Tara, feeling that that was no place for an 18 year old young woman and a rambunctious 12 year old, let alone a Watcher with a Slayer to train, had used a bit of her inheritance money to buy this old 7 bedroom house, 3 bedrooms upstairs and 4 downstairs .

Two of the bedrooms upstairs were actually used, while the third was used as Tara's personal study. The largest of the four downstairs was currently in the process of being converted into a dojo of sorts, with tatami mat floors and various training implements.

All in all, a great place for a young Slayer to live and train.

DING-DONG!

Artie looked out into the hall. No response from Tara's room.

DING-DONG!

Slyly, she covered up the demon's remains with a corner of the rug and dashed off to answer the door.

"Hi, we saw you were new to the neighborhood and we thought we should say hi and oh wait never mind it's just you."

Dawn, Buffy, and Joyce stood on the front porch, the Summers matriarch looking positively welcoming, while Buffy and Dawn just looked confused. Artie stepped aside and let them in, pointing Buffy to the direction of Tara's room. She poked her head out the door and stared at the house right next to theirs.

They were 1632. Buffy's house was right next door.

"Huh. How'd I not notice that?"

* * *

><p>Buffy let out an appreciative whistle at the sight of the training room.<p>

"It's not done yet," Tara smiled warmly. "But once it is, you and Faith are welcome to use it."

"Neat! That's the school library or Giles' living room by like, a lot."

"I bet!" Tara paused. "Where's your mom?"

"In the kitchen force feeding your Slayer the green bean casserole we brought over, I bet."

Tara snorted. "Good luck. That kid's the pickiest eater I know."

"Great. Dawn will eat anything. They can have their own wacky sitcom."

The two turned and headed back toward the kitchen. Artie, Dawn, and Joyce were around the kitchen island, talking politely and eating.

"-about a month back."

"And how are you dealing with it? Big changes like that can affect girl, I bet."

"Not really," Artie shrugged. "I've been with my Watcher for a year before I was Called, and she took me all over the place, ki-" Dawn kicked her under the table. She had known of her older sister's nighttime activities long before their mother, and the two Summers girls had made it a point to avoid talking of the really gritty stuff around their mother. "-er, big game hunting."

"And what about school?" Ever the concerned parent, Joyce was. "I know Buffy and Faith have enough trouble keeping up with schoolwork, and Dawn tells me you're in her grade."

"We have History and English together," Dawn shot cheerfully.

Art swallowed another bite of casserole. "Well, school gets out at 2:30, and Tara always makes sure I have all my homework done before patrol, which starts at sundown. I only do three hours before Buffy or Faith take over, so I can be home by bedtime."

Joyce smiled warmly. "Your Watcher sounds like a very sensible woman. Not like Rupert, oh no. If Buffy wants to study, she has to do it _while_ she's on patrol."

She grinned at Joyce around her spoon, and the older woman couldn't the sharp intake of breath. Her eldest daughter had told her about the new Slayer and how young she was, but seeing her sitting there side by side with her Dawnie, it had finally sunk in. '_She's just a baby_.'

Buffy poked her head into the kitchen. "Aha! See? Told you!" Tara followed her in, thinking it odd that she was being led around her own house. "Tara, this is my mom. Mom, this is Tara. She's Art's Watcher."

"…you're younger than I expected."

Tara ducked her head, bangs over eyes. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot lately."

'_She's barely any older than Buffy_,' Joyce bit the inside of her cheek. "And the two of you live here? By yourselves?"

"'m eighteen, m'am," Tara said respectfully. "And a fully trained W-watcher." Artie rose from her seat and pulled a fresh carton of juice from the fridge, popping the little plastic ring-seal and pocketing it before moving on to the cupboard.

The eldest Summers woman could not even fathom the idea of someone Buffy's age taking care of someone Dawn's age and fighting monster at the same time. The idea of it horrified her.

"No adults?"

Tara swallowed. "I report to my superiors every two weeks or so, and Mister Giles checks on us, so we're fine." Behind Joyce, another tiny demon leapt out at Art from the cupboard. The young Slayer seized it in her fist and flung it out the open window.

'_Babies. They're all just babies.' _Buffy, Willow, Xander, Faith, and now these two. Then Joyce made her decision. "You two should come over for dinner sometime."

Artie pulled a glass from the cupboard, the inside of it stained with some sort of pus yellow, viscous liquid of obviously demonic origins. The Slayer sniffed at it, shrugged, and poured the juice in anyway.

Tara's eyes widened. "Well..."

Over Joyce's shoulder, Artie, sipping her…_juice_, turned big, pleading eyes to her Watcher.

"I dunno…"

"Ooh!" Dawn hopped up and down in her seat. "We could invite everyone over, every other weekend?"

Buffy squeaked. "Like a Scooby bonding night?"

Joyce nodded. "I think it'd be a great idea."

Dawn continued her bouncing. "We wouldn't always have dinner. We could watch movies and have popcorn and stuff-"

"-And invite the whole gang over!" Buffy seemed to really get into it now. "Faith and Giles and Willow and Xander."

'_Willow_…' Tara blushed, and gave a strained smile. "That sounds swell."

Artie kept drinking the damn juice.

**The Next Night**

"Ta'?"

"…"

"Taaaaaa'!"

"…"

"I stopped puking and my fever went down. Can we train now?"

"…"

"I finished all my homework, and we've got a few more hours till sundown."

The young Watcher glared at her from over her Harry Potter book. The bizarre liquid Artie had ingested the previous evening had proven, to no one's surprise, to be poisonous. A combination of Slayer healing and the sure knowledge that neither Heaven nor Hell would want the girl until she reached the age where she _wasn't_ a complete lunatic was the only thing that kept her from expiring in the middle of the night.

Also Tara did some magic, though judging from how upset she was at her Slayer's idiocy, she probably half-assed it.

'_Pickiest person in existence when she needs to be fed_,' the witch groused. '_And she sees some strange liquid and goes, _'Gee I wonder what would happen if I ate this!''

"I know you're just ignoring me because you're mad. You've read that book like a gazillion times."

And why not? A young child with magical powers gets taken from his abusive home to a wondrous castle where he is taught magic? Tara could relate a little too well.

"And it's 'Prisoner of Azkaban', too," Artie frowned. "Remember the last time you read this one?"

Tara lifted the book closer to her face and flicked her bangs over her eyes in an attempted to hide her shamed blush. Upon reaching the chapter about Animagi, she proclaimed it A Great Idea and had sped outside.

Having one's Watcher stuck in the form of an eagle for several days could put a damper on any 12 year old's love for the fictional wizarding world.

In hindsight, a witch who sucked at transfiguration had no business learning to shapeshift, anyway.

She had killed a lot of owls that week, though. No matter how cute Hedwig was, Tara hated real life owls in a manner that no reasonable human being should hate an animal.

The Watcher trilled angrily. "Training room. Now."

The young Slayer scurried into the training room and pivoted on her heel, feeling Kaa's familiar weight in her hand.

Yes, she named her sword after the snake from the Jungle Book.

Art barely had time to contemplate her own wittiness before Tara's own blade came slicing downwards. While the young Slayer used a rapier, Tara preferred an old Civil War cavalry saber. While Artie had her Slayer strength to back up her blows now, her Watcher still had about 12 years' experience thanks to her Watcher-dad.

Essentially, Tara fought like they did in pirate movies.

Her magic made her even more deadly. Art ducked a wave of light blue fire, though she knew that Tara would never hurt her with her magic. The blue fire would probably do something stupid, like turn her hair purple.

Actually, scratch that. That'd be awesome.

With a duck and roll, she dodged the thrust of Tara's blade and parried as she rose. '_She's…really stressed right now._'

She knew it couldn't have been her little poisoning incident that had upset her Watcher, so it must have been something else. Was it girl troubles?

Tara's blade slipped between Artie's arm and body.

No! Never! Tara _never_ had girl problems. Most people would consider 'sheltering' Artie from adult things, but her grandparents had owned an alpaca farm. She knew all about mommies and daddies.

Artie also knew about daddies and daddies-

She dropped to her knees as the witch's blade stabbed at where her head was.

-so when she met Tara, the idea of mommies and mommies really came to no surprise.

What was a surprise was the idea of Tara having girl problems. The Watcher was naturally perceptive when it came to people, and combined with the level of manipulation that all Watchers seem to develop (not her fault, Artie had decided. Nature vs. Nurture and all) resulted in Tara being one smooth talker. Heck, the only way Tara would have girl troubles would be if she couldn't talk, and even then Artie had her doubts.

…but honestly, what were the chances of that?

"Asdfughuk!" Artie hit the ground.

"Keep your head in the fight," her Watcher scolded. "And don't be afraid to fight dirty. The demons sure won't."

"'Keep my head in the fight'? Look who's talking, Zone-face!"

"I wasn't zoning out!"

"You were!" Art flipped onto her back, looking up at the older girl. "Wanna talk about it?"

Tara plopped down next to her, cross legged. "Noooo…."

"C'mon!"

She rested her elbow on her knee and leaned on her hand. "Girl."

"How'd I get that wrong?"

Tara peered at her with one eye, the other covered by her bangs. "Um, what?"

"Nothing. Is it someone we know? It'd have to be. We don't know many people here."

"Willow," she murmured.

"You're interested in her? Go for it." As if that was the simplest thing in the world. Oh, the innocence of a child.

"What? No!"

"Why not?"

"We're busy!" Tara sputtered. "Slaying and whatnot."

"She helps Buffy and Faith," she prodded. "Just ask her out and see where it goes."

"You're kinda my main priority right now, Art."

The Slayer scowled. "Ask her out or I'll eat all the gummy vitamins I can find and you'll go down in history as the only Watcher whose Slayer died OD'ing on gummy bears."

"…where'd you learn to be so underhanded?"

"Well, you're lovesick right now, so I decided I had to be the adult and be emotionally manipulative."

"Ha! Fine, I'll ask her out once I get the chance. Right after I have a discussion with you on your despairing views on adulthood."

Outside, one large crow cawed.


	8. Chapter 8

Cyteach: Artie varies from, 'I'm cute, look at me!' to 'Does not give a shit', and all varying places in between. There's also, 'Shit just got real so I'm gonna hide behind Tara' mode, though we haven't seen much of that one.

Babbles4Twillow: Right-o, ma'am!

Warning: Mentions of child abuse.

**Chapter 8 (Apple n' Greens is apples, spinach, bell pepper, lettuce, and pretty much Dawn if she were a beverage.)**

"…wait, so your house is infested with imps?"

Tara nodded. "Eighty dollars if you can kill them."

"Sweet!" Faith paused. "Wait, are you setting me up for some sort of prank? I'm pretty sure baby-Slayer can take care of this, and B's right next door."

The young Watcher shook her head. "Trust me, Artie is the _last_ person I'd want near these things. I'm asking you because I want these things dead. Not relocated outside because Buffy thinks they're cute. I want them dead."

"Wow. And you seemed so nice."

"I am nice! But these things are like tiny piranhas. I saw one strip a mouse down to bone this morning."

The dark haired Slayer winced. "I'll ah, go grab my weapons then."

Faith's 'weapons' as it turned out, were various vermin traps, coils of wire, a BB gun, and a boot knife. At Tara's quirked brow, she merely said, "Big rats where I grew up. Momma couldn't always afford an exterminator."

Tara led Faith through the house, and the Slayer let out a whistle. "Didn't know we had houses like this this close to Main Street."

"It was originally only a five bedroom, with a three car garage. The previous owners must've decided one car was enough, because they walled off the bigger part of the garage and turned it into two more bedrooms."

"Wow. That's hella stupid. I've only been in SunnyD for a few months and even I know not to mess with old buildings like this. Think that may be what released the imps?"

"Probably, yeah. That's also probably why the house was so cheap."

Faith shrugged. "All the houses here are cheap, man. Death rates mean the housing market is always good." She dropped her gear on the back porch, and set to work setting traps. They'd set them up outside, and work their way in so that if any imps tried to flee, they'd be caught in the traps already set up outside.

DING-DONG!

"What the-" Tara started towards the house. "Faith, you okay here? I'm gonna go check who that is."

The Slayer made a sound that sounded like confirmation, so Tara shrugged and went inside. Pulling the door open, she was surprised to find Art standing at the front porch somehow managing to look smug and petulant at the same time, Buffy and Xander laughing their butts off on the sidewalk.

Willow grinned, and gripped Artie's elbow tighter. "Is this yours?"

**An hour earlier**

It was definitely her eyes. Or maybe her smile? Maybe it was the soft encouragement that she gave Willow, how she made her feel safe?

Maybe it was her boobies.

Willow hissed in frustration. Trying to figure out what she liked best about Tara was like trying to pick out the best smoothie at Jamba Juice: There were honestly far too many and her favorite changed every time she came by.

Still, as she smiled thankfully at the 16 oz. Mango-a-go-go Xander handed to her. Confidence in a Styrofoam cup. Yum.

"Guys?"

Buffy looked up from her Orange Carrot Karma. "Yeah Wills?"

"I need advice," she swallowed. "On dating. Girls."

Buffy grinned. "Of course I can give you advice. I'm a girl. And Xander's one of the ladies too, aren't you?" she punched the dark haired boy affectionately on the shoulder.

Willow flushed. This was going to be harder than she thought. "I don't think you understand, Buff'." She took a deep breath. "I need advice on asking a girl out."

Xander choked on his Razzmatazz and looked at Buffy, wild eyed. The Slayer stared back, eyes equally huge.

Was Willow finally confirming what they had believed for months?

Composing himself, Xander stepped into his role of big brother almost flawlessly. "Well you've got me if want advice. You know, for finding a gal pal, or a playmate, or a lady sidekick-"

Almost flawlessly.

Buffy patted his back. "I've got it from here, Xand."

"Oh thank god," he gasped. "I honestly have no idea what I'm talking about."

"Wait." Willow blinked. "You guys are _okay_ with this?"

"You're our friend, what'd you expect?"

"Judgment, denial, laughter, and a whole host of other terrifying things?"

"Wills," Xander held his hands up to calm her down. "It was kinda obvious. You don't notice guys-"

"The guys we know are scabs!"

"-you own a tool belt."

"That was the Ultimate Organizer Computer Repair kit my cousin Lily got me for my birthday!"

"Plus she's been sniffing around Tara like a creeper," Artie said, taking a sip of her Peach Perfection.

The Scoobies jumped in their seats. "Where did you come from?" Xander screeched.

"She smells nice!" Willow cried indignantly.

"I got lost." She spun in her chair, ignoring Willow's outburst. "Take me home and I can get Tara to go out with you." She tried to waggle her eyebrows the way her Watcher did, but only succeeded in bugging her eyes out.

"Oh my god, you losers are always making a scene wherever you go, aren't you?"

All four turned to the source of the voice, though the three older ones winced, already knowing who it was.

Cordelia Chase, with Harmony by her side.

Buffy sighed. "Look you two, we really don't wanna have to deal with you right now, so-"

"Shut up, Summers," Harmony snapped. Art cocked her head curiously, mesmerized by the interactions. Buffy was a Slayer, Willow was apparently a powerful witch, and Xander…

Well, Xander was a pretty big guy. So why were they being pushed around by these two vapid girls? She shook her head. Teenagers were weird.

"We're just having smoothies. Back off," Willow really did not want to deal with this right now. Why was it that every time she attempted some sort of large, emotional reveal, the universe played it off like some joke?

"Please," the blond snorted. "We share the Bronze with you losers no problem, and you've all taken over the Espresso Pump. This is _our_ smoothie shop. Your kind don't belong here."

Art narrowed her eyes. These guys saved the world on a nightly basis and _this_ was what they put up with? Not only that, in her head, she had already begun to associate Willow as Tara's, and there was no way she was going to let the other girls get away with this. Tara would be disappointed if she didn't stand up for people, even if they were older.

Artie hated disappointing Tara.

"What'd you mean 'your kind'?" She looked innocently between Willow and Harmony, playing up the 'little girl' act as best as she could. "Did you mean redheads, or Jews?"

Silence fell in the smoothie shop as all the other patrons stopped and glared, waiting for an answer. The two girls sputtered, and stomped out with a huff.

The Scoobies cocked their heads to the side in unison. '_This kid has the potential to be a complete and utter douchebag.'_

**Back to the present**

"Um, what?"

"I got lost!" Art informed her Watcher cheerily. Tara pulled her into the house and shoved the smaller girl behind her, never taking her eyes off of the redhead.

"W-willow…"

The younger witch grinned and held up a Styrofoam cup. "Brought you a creamy treat, too."

'_I bet you did.' _

"It's Peanut Butter Moo'd,"

"T-thanks." The two girls stood there awkwardly, staring at each other with wide eyes and completely unsure of what to do now. Buffy and Xander rocked forward on the sidewalk, expectantly, and Buffy nearly spilled Dawn's Apple n' Greens. Artie grumbled a bit behind Tara.

"W-willow…I was w-wondering if-"

"Tarawillyougoonadatewithme?"

"…huh?"

Willow expelled air from her lungs, a keening sound of frustration. "Willyougoonadate?" she rushed again. "Withme?"

"W-will…"

"It's just, you're so nice and you're also really hot. Like, really. And we've got all the same interests and I understand if you don't wanna go on a date with me, since you're so hot and amazing, but you'll probably do it nicely because you **are** nice." The redhead stopped, panting. She was blushing furiously, having thrown herself completely out there.

Tara's eyes widened, and she glanced over at Artie, who looked absolutely smug. She was way too young to look smug. She told her –**told **her! - that she would ask Willow out when she was ready, yet the Slayer had led the gorgeous redhead to their doorstep!

'_Aaand now I'll be doing all of Dawn's geography homework for the next week or so, though I wouldn't have found them without her help._' There would be no scolding from Tara; Willow would keep her distracted enough.

Tara's lips quirked. "I'd love to."

And there it was. Tara-smile, pretty enough to bring a smile on Willow's face too, though her's was of a far more dopey variety.

'_I owe you so much, Ta'_,' the youngest Slayer smiled.

Buffy and Xander let out several whoops and cheers, genuinely happy for their friend.

Their cheers weren't loud enough to cover Faith's screams from the backyard.

"NO! Mama, no..!"

The four of them managed to reach the backyard in time to see the dark haired Slayer collapse into the patio, whimpering and shivering. Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy spotted a green mist fading from the area.

"-I'll be a good girl now, I promise!"

"Buffy!" Tara's clear voice turned the blonde Slayer's eyes back to her. "Pick her up." The young woman was in full Watcher mode now, her eyes narrowed as she stepped around Faith, trying to assess the damage. "Xander, call Giles. Now."

Artie scowled. It had been only a month, but her Slayer senses had kicked the young girl's predatory instincts to overdrive. A sister-Slayer and been injured, in Art's own home. "I'll go next door and see if Mrs. Summers and Dawn are okay."

Tara nodded her okay and Buffy smiled at the younger Slayer gratefully. Art tried to smile back, but something made her go green, bumping into Xander before she muttered an apology and stumbled over the fence separating the two yards.

Willow moved towards Tara, sidestepping Buffy as she hauled Faith up. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Can you get the first aid kits please?"

"Kit_s_?"

"First Aid kit is the downstairs bathroom, emergency first aid kit is under the couch, and Artie's first aid kit is in her room," she murmured. She was feeling woozy.

"Tara," Willow was concerned. "Which one do we need?"

"All of them." Damn her head hurt.

"Tara, it was just a head wound."

When Tara was little her dad –Nathan, not Jack, Jack came later- had walloped her good. She ended up cracking her head on the table edge.

"Artie's then. Master bedroom, under her bed."

It was a tiny cut, but they always bled the worst.

"Buffy is putting Faith _on_ the _couch_," the redhead said slowly. "Wouldn't it make more sense to use that one?"

That was the night Momma took her away. Away to the Council's Welsh headquarters, away to Jack, and safety and magic. To Watcher-hood, and Artie, and Sunnydale, and Willow.

Artie. Willow.

Tara sighed, and rocked backwards on her heels as an invisible weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. Willow's arms shot out to steady her.

"You okay?"

"Nope," she righted herself, and quirked a brow at the redhead. Or maybe she thought she did, she was still a bit woozy, after all. "But I think Faith should be our main priority right now. This has **not** been a good month for her."

**Somewhere**

Halfrek growled.

Something was hurting Sunnydale's young people. More so than usual, anyway.

But this went beyond mere predator/prey relations.

Something out there was being drawn towards the young adults who _used_ to be abused children, the ones who had risen beyond their hurt and turned it into drive.

The ones that Halfrek exacted justice for anyway, because they never asked for it themselves.

And now, something was being drawn to them, and forcing them to relive those childhood memories.

Dammit, this was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

Stupid other demons and their undoing of Hallie's work.

"That's not all," Anyanka hissed from behind her. "Dimensional walls are getting holes poked through them, and it isn't one of us."

Well, shit.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine(aka the author is exhausted and can't be bothered to come up with a witty title)**

"H-here."

Tara set down a plate full of sandwiches onto the book littered living room table where the Scoobies had congregated, right next to a still unconscious Faith. Artie was still next door with Joyce and Dawn, under the guise of studying, and Buffy and Tara were all too willing to keep her there till whatever this was blew over.

"Giles is on his way," Xander said, reaching out to grab a sandwich. He paused and looked at the young Watcher tentatively before she smiled gently, and he took it. The few times his family sat down to eat together, he had to wait for his father's permission, or suffer the consequences. His eye twitched.

"Hmmmmm."

Buffy ignored the food. "So do we look at the demon-y books, right? I mean it had to be a demon. The question is do we look it up by species, or something?" She normally wasn't research-girl. She was usually 'poke it with various pointy things til it stops moving' girl, but whatever this was had Faith on the ground screaming for her mother.

"Hm? Hmmmmm!"

And Faith never screamed.

"Hrrrrnnnnnmmmm."

Not even when she was being electrocuted.

"Okay," she slammed her hands down on the table and whipped her head to the side like a sassy woman from a Tyler Perry movie. Normally she was a very tolerant person but, "Willow, how the **hell** can you be humming at a time like this?"

The redhead blinked and cocked her head in a birdlike manner, the image all the more hilarious due to her bulging cheeks. "Hrm?"

Xander roared with laughter. "Nummy sounds!"

Buffy quirked her brow, and Tara poked her head back into the living room, arms filled with books. She looked curious too.

"Xander don't you dare," Willow warned.

"She's done it since we were kids," he ducked to avoid the redhead's swat, eye twitching. "She gets a hold of something really tasty and she just _hums_." He looked at Buffy incredulously. "How have you not heard it before?"

"I never noticed."

"This is so embarrassing," the redhead groaned.

"I think it's cute," Tara said sweetly. She nudged Willow's shoulder affectionately with her hip as she set the books down. "Glad to know someone likes my food."

Willow smiled a smile of happiness and bit down into her sandwich again. '_Hrmm, grilled chicken, tomato, lettuce, and ranch._' She picked up one heavy, leather bound tome and paused. She looked at the rest of the pile.

"Hey, Giles has these books too!"

"Standard Watcher fare," Tara plopped down cross-legged next to Willow, and the redhead managed to sneak a sniff of her hair. "I-Is that gonna be a problem."

"No, it means that since I know these books," she flipped a few pages. "I know where everything is." She turned to Tara and gave her the ever so smug, 'Willow knows what she's doing so calm yo' tits, baby' face. Or at least that's what it looked like to Tara.

She blushed under that gaze, straightening them and re-crossing them. "O-oh. That's good then."

Faith's Slayer nose twitched and she shot up in the couch.

"Someone's wet!" she shouted. She peered blearily around the room, suddenly realizing where she was and what she was saying. "Someone's we_n_t! Went. Everyone's here but baby-Slayer."

Hey, she may be a pervert but she didn't completely lack tact. Faith was classy like that.

'Thanks for the save,' both Willow and Tara silently mouthed at her, oblivious to the other. Faith just smiled and nodded her head. Or tried to.

"Shit!" Her hand flew to the back of her head. "What the fuck?"

"I dunno," Buffy admitted. "We heard you screaming for your mom and we came over and you were on the ground."

Faith's muscles tensed at the mention of her mother, something only Tara and Xander noticed. Then, she laughed. "I guess I underestimated those imps, eh?"

DING-DONG!

"Giles is here," Tara stood, and Willow admired the long legs from her position on the floor. Striding across the living room to the door in that Watcher-stride she only ever seemed to do in the presence of the older Watcher, Willow took time to admire other parts, too.

Rather blatantly, if Faith's snorting and Buffy and Xander's averted gazes meant anything.

"Giles, thank heavens you've arri-" the sandy haired Watcher paused.

Rupert stood there, books in hand and looking rather dour, flanked by two young women. "They intercepted me as I was making my way up the drive."

Immediately, Faith and Buffy shot up, Slayer senses going haywire.

Demons.

"Get down you two!" Buffy commanded as Faith whipped the empty sandwich plate towards them. The two Watchers dropped down in unison, training kicking in. In their line of work, if someone told you to duck, you ducked.

The plate flew in an arc, Faith's Slayer strength going to the throw, hitting the skinny one in the jaw and the dark haired one in the face. It bounced off with a satisfying sound and somehow landed back onto Faith's lap.

She threw her hands in the air in an uncharacteristic display of delight. "I'm Xena!"

The dark haired woman groaned in pain, but the skinny one was on her feet already.

"Bitch," she hissed, face completely raw. And then she launched herself at the Slayer.

**At the Summers Residence**

Artie twitched, and looked up from Dawn's geography homework. "You hear that?"

The youngest Summers girl looked up from her magazine. "Nope."

Though that may have had more to do with the music they were blasting, rather than lack of any noises. The upbeat tunes of the latest Top 40 drowned out any outside sounds, even with all the windows wide open so all possible escapes possible.

Hey, there was a reason why Tara got two upstairs rooms and Artie got the master, dammit!

"Nah, I'm pretty sure I heard something," she said, leaning towards the window.

"Girls," Joyce said, poking her head into the room. "I made hazelnut brownies."

Okay. No noise it was.

Now if only that icky feeling would go away.

**Back to What Willow has already dubbed The Lair of Deliciously Hot Watcher-Witch**

Tara leapt to her feet. "I just moved in!"

Anyanka threw herself and Buffy, and Faith hopped up and seized the demon, throwing both her and Buffy to the ground.

"Tell them I just moved in!" she said piteously, looking at Hallie and Giles as if they could do something about this.

The living room table groaned as two Slayers piledrived the demon on it. Xander backed away, but kept his gaze on the ensuing catfight.

"C'mon, I just bought that!"

"I'm actually really sorry," the dark haired demon said sincerely. "We came to help."

"You friend is…spirited," Giles noted. Willow let out a frightened squawk as all three rolled off the table and onto her.

Oh.

Hell.

Naw.

"Separate!" Tara's intonement sent Faith on her rear right at Giles' feet, Anyanka to the couch, and Buffy shrieking as she slid sideways into the kitchen like a human Swiffer mop.

"Explain, now!"

Buffy crawled back to the living room gulped. Her mother used that one whenever she and Dawn roughhoused as kids and broke something. But Tara wasn't a mother hen like Joyce, oh no. She was Alpha-bitch in her own territory, ready to bite the shit out of any misbehaving pups.

Willow was in girly-awe.

The skinny one stood up straight, smoothing her clothes and returning her face to normal. "Strong witch. I like you. I'm Anyanka, and that's Halfrek. We're vengeance demons."

"Anya deals with scorned women," Halfrek said. "I'm into more kid friendly business."

Xander's eye twitched. "Whatever Cordelia said, it was a mutual breakup!"

"Oh _please_," Anyanka brushed him aside.

Faith stood, staying between the Watchers and Hallie, and Buffy did the same, keeping Xander and Willow behind her. "Talk."

"Holes are being ripped open in the multi-verse, and things are slipping though."

Faith interrupted. "Wait, like in Doctor Who?" Giles grinned and Tara turned and actually hi-fived her.

"Something is in this universe that shouldn't be here," the demon continued, ignoring Faith's outburst. "I need you to track it down, and Anya will send it back."

"Ooh! Ooh!" Buffy yelped. "Green mist! When we got Faith, there was green mist."

"Green is usually a sign of inter-dimensional antics. Most who travel via dimensional port-hole will usually give off a green glow," Anya said. "Also portals and dimensional Keys, though the chances of you dealing with one of those is ridiculously low."

"What's the catch?" Willow asked warily, trying not to read too much into the quiet little outbursts of 'Exterminate' coming from Faith and Tara.

"Whatever it is, it's interfering with Hal's work," Anya said. "And that's bad business."

"What she means is," the dark haired demon said. "Is that I work with mistreated kids. I avenge the abused, stuff like that. Whatever this is, it's forcing them to have flashbacks."

"Not just mentally, either," Anya said excitedly. "They're reliving physical pain."

Everyone stared, Tara, Faith, and Xander suddenly uncomfortable.

"What? I'm a vengeance demon. Making someone relive the same pain? Genius."

"-and I'm pretty sure none of you want that? Especially you three," she gestured to Tara, Faith, and Xander. "By the looks of things, you've already experienced the effects?"

"Oh dear lord," Giles snarled, suddenly realizing what this was doing to his kids.

Faith's collapse. Her mother and her boyfriends used to kick her around when drunk enough.

Xander's uncharacteristically shy moments, and his eye twitch. His father _was_ a drunken lout, after all.

And Tara, her headache? But that had to mean…

Willow gasped, eyes watering as the implications sunk in, confirmed when the other witch averted her gaze.

"You're an adult now and you escaped early enough," Halfrek said to a silent Tara. "But it was pretty bad when it was happening, wasn't it." She turned to Faith. "You got out of it recently. But it's all still fresh-"

"Shut _up_," the Slayer snarled, and Buffy almost stepped forward to restrain her.

Almost.

The vengeance demon danced out of her grasp and turned to Xander, who had now placed a hand over his twitching eye. "You're almost a man…you don't have to put up with this much longer."

Buffy whimpered. She knew about Faith, yeah, but _Xander_? He was so happy! One glance in Willow's direction let Buffy know she was the last in their little trio to know.

Halfrek paused. "Where's the little one?"

"Stay away from Art," Tara snarled. Buffy and Willow blanched. Artie too?

"Don't worry your little Watcher head," the demon said sweetly. "She's a Slayer now, so I won't be doing any business with little Miss Frost anytime soon." She turned to address the whole room. "So you'll do it?"

Buffy, Willow, and Giles turned to the other three. In reality, this was their decision, though it was obvious none of them wanted to be reliving the childhood pain again anytime soon.

"We're not gonna do this for you," Tara said after a moment of silence. The demons' jaws dropped.

"Wh-how can you _not_?"

"You didn't let her finish," Xander said. He stood up straight, and his voice was low.

"She said we weren't gonna do this for you," Faith growled. "We're gonna do this for ourselves."

Hallie grinned. "Thank you. I-"

"Yeah, yeah. Buffy and Faith, run next door and tell Joyce to keep Art there and arm up with whatever weapons you got. Xander and Mister Giles, I need you to look up any sort of demon that could do what Halfrek described. Willow," she paused and smiled flirtatiously. "Willow, you're with me. We're gonna look up any spells that will prevent us from freaking out again." The redhead practically jumped up.

"And us?"

Tara turned to the two demons, arm slung casually over Willow's shoulders. "We'll contact you when we need you. Now get the hell out of my house."

Halfrek huffed and teleported out. Anyanka followed soon after, but not before she cleaned the living room with a snap of her fingers and fixing Xander with a shark-like smile, winking out of the house.

They soon broke into three pairs, the Slayers running out the door, Willow and Tara darting upstairs, and Xander and Giles standing in the living room. Xander turned to the older man.

"Remember when _you_ used to boss us around?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10(xoxox)**

When a child reaches a certain age, all sorts of things come to light. Toys and games, once the pinnacle of childhood delight, fall to the wayside as other things take their place. Mother and father, once faultless in their child's eyes were now seen as mere hindrances, getting in the way of the truly important things.

"So are you going to Janice's birthday party?"

Artie blinked. "Yeah, if I'm not patrolling that night, but that's a ways away, isn't it?"

The two preteens were in the Summers' kitchen, having just finished gorging themselves on Joyce's brownies.

"Yeah, but she's turning _thirteen_," Dawn gushed. "So it's never too early to start planning gifts, and what you're gonna wear-"

Artie cut her off. "We hang out with awesome teenagers all the time though."

"Yeah, but they're family. They don't count."

There was a crash as the front door as Faith and Buffy came exploding into the house and darted upstairs.

"Artie, Tara says to stay here!" Buffy shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Not a problem!" the younger Slayer shouted back jovially. Tara said, Artie did. "Are you guys killing stuff tonight?"

"Hopefully!" Joyce stepped out of her bedroom wondering what the shouting was about. "Hi mom! Bye mom!" Buffy kissed her mother's cheek and pivoted around her, hiding the battleax behind her back.

Faith was far less sneaky, smiling at the older woman as she pulled the modified shoulder holster on, black _ninjat__ō_ strapped to the back. "Heya Mrs. S!"

Joyce smiled. "Hello dear," then she turned serious. "Be careful now, understand? Both you. Especially you, Faith."

"What am I?" Buffy teased from the end of the hall. "Chopped liver?"

"I said both of you didn't I?" The blonde waved her mother off as she and Faith jogged down the stairs. Rather than go out the front door and round to Tara's house, they decided to go out the back door and hop the fence. It was the same distance, but the fence hopping made their teenaged minds feel like it was a shortcut.

"Sup half-pints?" Buffy shoved a brownie in her mouth, grabbing another in her free hand. Faith followed suit, having both arms free she scooped up a decent amount and darted out the door after her blonde counterpart. Artie and Dawn craned their necks to see them literally hop the fence.

"You're not upset that they're doing this without you?" Dawn asked.

"Nah," the young Slayer lied. "We slay in shifts all the time."

"But this wasn't 'Getting Ready for Patrol' Faith and Buffy," she pointed out. "That's the 'We're Going Hunting' Fuffy power hour."

"It's not a big deal. Tara said to stay here, so I listen."

Dawn stared at her friend as if she had sprouted another head, which was actually a specific facial expression she had developed since moving to Sunnydale. "Geez, you sure listen to your Watcher a lot."

"Z'at a problem?"

"Nope. Not at all," Dawn smirked. "It's just that if I had those powers? I'd be kicking butt right in the middle of it."

"Well that's your perog, pergo, pregative."

Dawn wrinkled her nose. "What does that even mean?"

Artie frowned. "Dunno. Tara always used that term when I'm about to do something stupid and she doesn't stop me and wants me to learn from it."

"I just think Buffy is lucky, that's all."

Artie swallowed another brownie whole. "Why?"

"She gets something to keep her mind off of things," the girl got a faraway look in her eyes. "I've been thinking about my dad a lot lately."

"Uhrm?" Artie said around her brownie.

"I mean, I don't like thinking about him…he gave Buffy and I up without a fight, you know? Just ran off with his secretary."

"..that sucks, man."

"Buffy and Mommy don't think I know he didn't want us, but I do." She sniffled slightly, and had the sudden need to busy herself. "Do you want milk with those brownies?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"Hfsh."

Dawn took that as an 'okay'.

**The Lair of Deliciously Hot Watcher-Witch**

Willow followed Tara upstairs, keeping a respectful distance even though all she wanted to do was hold the other witch. Surprisingly enough, Tara led her not to the master bedroom, but a much smaller one across the hall which shared a conjoined bathroom with the other room next to it.

"Artie's a bit of a claustrophobe," she explained as she ushered Willow inside. "So she got the bigger room, and I got the other two."

The redhead quirked her brow at Tara's other room, visible because of the bathroom's two open doors. "That's actually kinda awesome."

The room they were currently in had a desk pushed against the wall, the other three lined with bookshelves only partially filled. Several opened boxes filled with books lay on the floor, and Willow realized why it had taken so long for Tara to bring down the books.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh yeah," Tara grinned. "At first it was kinda tough carrying all these boxes around, but then I remembered that Artie was a Slayer." She paused. "That wasn't what you were talking about, was it?"

"That demon, Halfrek..she said-"

"Oh bugger what she said!" Tara scoffed, suddenly sounding very British.

"Are you sure? Because I can run downstairs and grab you some tea, or coffee? Well, actually ignore the coffee, it never helps you relax. Unless it's what you want, then yay! Go coffee!"

The sandy haired witch chuckled and placed a hand on Willow's shoulder to calm her. "It's okay. It was a long time ago."

"Are you sure?" Willow still in 'I can fix it!' mode. "My parents are psychologists and I've read their books and they say-"

Tara placed her finger over Willow's lips. "Shush now," she turned and began to pull books off of the shelves and from the boxes. "I can barely remember it," she continued. "I know for a lot of people it's hard to move on from something like that, but me? It's happened, I'm not proud of it, and yeah it hurts," she set down a particularly heavy book on the desk with a grunt. "But it happened. I've learned that the easier it is to accept things, the easier you can move on."

"You just accept it?"

Tara pursed her lips. "Yeah, that's an awful way to put it, innit?" She shrugged. "I mean to say, I recognize the fact that it happened, and now I'm moving forward with my life. Whatever our mystery demon is, all it brought up was memories of the 'ow' sort. I'm not gonna collapse like Faith."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she smiled. "It helps that I had an awesome step-dad to raise me right."

"He was a Watcher too?"

"Yup!" Despite her lack of angst concerning her early childhood, Tara was grateful for the subject change all the same. "You said your parents were psychologists?"

"Yep," Willow nodded. "I find it ironic that they work in child psychology and parenting, but they're never home."

"Surely you're exaggerating," Tara frowned. Neglect was one thing Tara could never stand.

"Nope. They'll be gone for months at a time on tours and stuff. I mean, they take care of me, always make sure I have money and everything, but I hardly ever see them. But it's really no big deal, they've done that since I was a kid. Once they were gone for a full eight months!"

Tara's heart broke. It was one thing to have demons bring up the worst memories of your parents one could have, but it was another thing entirely to have any memories _with_ your parents. She reached out and wordlessly pulled Willow into a hug.

It wasn't a crappy hug either. It was one of real hugs, the kind where ones hands were pressed firmly on the other's back and you both kinda inhale at the same time.

With a cough, Tara stepped back a turned back to the books. "So, where shall we start, Miss Rosenburg?"

Willow brought her hand up to absentmindedly scratch at the back of her neck, wondering what she needed to do for Tara to hold her like that again. "I dunno. What's the diagnosis, Miss Tiler?"

"We're gonna need a shielding spell, or maybe just a magical alarm, to let us know when it's around." She bit lip lower lip as she flipped through the pages. "Maybe a small Blithe Charm?"

Willow's eyes snapped up from Tara's chest. "Oh um, why would we need that?"

"To keep everyone happy," she explained. "Whatever this thing is, it's bringing up some awful feelings and memories."

"Like a Dementor?"

Tara froze.

"You know," the redhead said nervously. "From Harry Potter?"

And stared.

'_Way to scare her off with your dweebish ways, Willster!'_

Oh.

"Yeah, really nerdy, huh?"

My.

"It's just, I can really relate, what with all the scary things they deal with while they're at school."

God.

And that was when the sandy haired witch pulled her into a kiss.

Looking back on it, Willow had to say it was a very chaste kiss, not like the open mouthed tongue lickings you saw in movies. Rather, it was merely a touching of lips to lips that lasted for about two seconds.

It happened fairly quickly, no sparks, no soaring orchestra or over-hype. In fact, when Tara finally pulled away, it was more of a 'What the hell?' moment.

"W-willow..I-"

This time it was Willow who initiated the lip-touching this time, and now that her brain finally caught up to what was going on she realized that she could do this over and over again and it would never get old. Like in the old 'Sylvester and Tweetie' cartoons, where Granny caught the cat trying to eat the little canary, and so he covered the little bird in tiny kisses pretending to be nice, but soon the taste just got to him and he went crazy and tried to eat the poor bird again.

All in all, not quite what normal people thought while kissing hotties, but Willow decided that Tara would find the analogy cute if she told her.

They finally pulled away and giggled at each other, both blushing, not out of embarrassment but from excitement.

"U-um, we should," Tara gestured to the books.

"Oh yeah. What with the spell finding-ness.." the redhead bit her lip, suddenly unsure of what to do now, and she looked down and scuffed her shoes on the hardwood floor.

"…"

"…"

"..can we just skip it?"

Tara did not initiate the third kiss, and neither did Willow. Somehow, they met in the middle. Willow's arms wrapped around Tara's neck, and Tara's hands rested on Willow's hips, and when they tried to use tongue their noses bumped awkwardly and they couldn't stop giggling, so they just stood there holding each other, leaning on the desk.

'_Huh_,' Tara thought. '_Guess we don't need that Blithe Charm.'_

And then she felt Willow's lips press sweetly to the corner of her mouth, and she tilted her head to capture the hacker's lips with her own, tongue sweeping along her lower lip.

Time to work on an entirely different type of charm.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11("Is this blasphemy? Tara? Is it?")**

Giles let out a small smile at the way Xander was scrunched up in the little arm chair while holding a heavy, leather-bound book in his lap. The boy, though without any powers of his own, put his all into helping others. The Slayers were known to gripe and shirk duties and witches seemed to be prone to bouts of selfishness, but Xander, for all his cowering in the face of danger, seemed to be the only one who genuinely wanted what was best for his hometown.

"Buffy'll kill this thing, right?" The young man's voice was small. Not soft, or quiet. Small. Only now had it truly sunk in the type of things this boy had to deal with every day. It was no wonder he was always so eager to help in the demon slaying.

When one had enough demons at home, the ones roaming the streets were nothing.

"Faith, probably. Buffy has been overcompensating since Art came around, but Faith's been injured and is angry."

"Gee, Angry-Faith or a Buffster who's convinced she's about to be superannuated? That'll be interesting."

Giles stared at the boy dumbly. "…superannuated?"

"I pay attention in English," he said defensively. It was true. Comedic timing wasn't everything. Sometimes putting a smile one someone's face required a guy to be quite verbose. Verbise? Wordy.

An awkward silence settled between the two. Giles shifted in his seat.

"I _am_ proud of you, you know." The young man looked up at him. "All of you. You've all grown so much since I've met you."

"T-that means a lot, coming from you Giles."

"You're nearly 18. You'll be a far better man than your father, I can assure you."

Xander fixed the Watcher with a shy smile. "Well, let's just say _he_ isn't my most predominant male figure."

Giles beamed at him and cleared his throat. "Yes, well…let's get back to research, shall we?"

"So whatever this is, it eats our bad emotions?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say 'eats'," he said, adjusting his glasses. "For all we know, it could just be causing all these negative emotions for, as you young folks say, shits and giggles."

The backdoor was kicked in as Buffy and Faith sauntered into the house. Luckily, Tara had her own rambunctious, door kicking Slayer in mind and butt hinges on the doors were one of the first things put she into the house, right after several protective charms and the slightly paranoid application of table corner guards that earned the teenaged Watcher many sympathetic looks at the local Babies R Us.

"You haven't found it yet?"

"Well, sorry," Xander teased. "We all can't just wander off and take fifteen minutes to come back with just two weapons."

Buffy pouted. "We brought brownies too."

Giles sighed. "We don't need brownies, you two. We **need** information on inter-dimensional demonic activity."

There was a shimmer and the air around them suddenly smelled of ozone. Only for a second, but it was strong. When they looked at the table again, a heavy book lay atop all the others. Its pages were frayed, yellow, and it looked to be bound in snakeskin.

The four of them frowned and cocked their heads.

Faith whistled. "Spooky."

* * *

><p>"That was…wow."<p>

"Yeah," Willow giggled and tucked her head under Tara's chin, just enjoying being held. The sandy haired witch in question was leaning against her desk, arms wrapped around the smaller witch.

"Should we start?" She asked, tilting her head to the several books knocked off the desk during their impromptu makeout session.

"Wait, one more." Willow craned her neck and kissed Tara one more time. As a kid-hell, even as a teenager-she had viewed kissing as something icky. First as that odd thing mom and dad did, and then as downright gross, the way movies portrayed it. Willow honestly never could see the appeal of having someone else's spit in your mouth, or worse, someone else's _tongue_.

Now though, as Tara sucked on her lower lip, Willow could very much see the appeal. In fact, it was like Willow had suddenly gained Appeal-o-Vision, as she contemplated all the other things that mouth could do.

"I think," smack "That we," smack "should," lick "invoke," suck "a goddess of protection?"

"Right-o," Willow breathed. "Bast or Aradia? Or are they the same?"

"Funny," Tara purred into her ear. "Never pegged you for a 'Pussy is Pussy' kinda girl." It was a joke of course, a reference to the feline forms both took. Willow laughed, and for a moment Tara wondered if she's laugh at her 'insect reflection' joke. She'd been waiting to use that one.

"Dunno," the redhead whispered hotly. "I'm kinda starting to lean towards a few Buddhist deities." She pushed her jean clad hips against the front of Tara's cargo pants, and was yet again struck by her own brazenness. Was she in some sort of witchy heat?

The young Watcher chuckled low in her throat. "The goddess Tara would be more than pleased to-"

"Um, am I interrupting something?"

The two witches leapt apart instantaneously. Willow scowled. "Xander! Don't you knock?"

The young man's were still wide, and his face turned a fascinating shade of red. "We found a spooky book and if you guys could come downstairs and check it out that'd be real swell or you could just carry on I don't care I'm sorry?"

He then did an about face that would make any drill sergeant proud and _fled_.

"So…" Tara blew her bangs out of her eyes with a puff. "Bast it is, then?"

After a quick prayer to said goddess (Beloved Bast..yada yada…..slay the evil that afflicts out minds….yada yada. Cliché, but effective) the two witches made it down the stairs, avoiding Xander's gaze.

Tara plastered on the fakest smile in the land. "Ooh look, new book!"

Willow followed suit. "Is that the spooky book? Ooh, it looks downright spooky," she turned her earnest gaze to the others. "See? We took a look at it. Now Tara and I need to do more research."

"I think I have some volume-y texts that might shed light on the situation."

"But it appeared out of nowhere," Buffy protested. "It might be a ghost book! I can't slay ghosts!"

Faith nodded sagely. "Ghosts are awful, man."

"Artie _is_ afraid of ghosts," Tara mused.

"At least if a demon is messing around I can stab it," the blonde Slayer explained. "Ghost kinda just…don't do anything. All they do is scare you and make you sad."

"And then you feel guilty when you freak out at them."

"Tara, would this be an awful time to say that your house looks like a haunted house?"

The witch shrugged. "If we get ghosts, the worse that'll happen is that Artie will cry. No poltergeists or evil spirits, though. Got enough charms to make sure of that."

And then Xander collapsed on the couch twitching and whimpering, green mist hovering over him.


	12. Chapter 12

A/n: Sorry for the sudden lack of updates, you guys. I won't have internet access at my place till next week, so I'm doing this from my friend's dorm room.

**Chapter 12(The Author decides random facts make better chapter titles, and Joyce uses a cup of butter and two cups of sugar in her brownies)**

It's funny how recent events can change one's perception of things. Vampires, once beings that existed only in campy horror movies and chilling tales, suddenly become a part of everyday life. A Slayer's job, once so clear, could suddenly blur when meeting some of the cruelest humans and the sweetest demons. A young man, viewed as a big brother and a protector and friend, suddenly reduced to a whimpering child.

"DISPELL," Willow intoned, the green mist dissipating slightly. The redhead dove down to kneel next to her oldest, dearest friend, gripping his hand tightly.

"No-! Dad, I won't do it again!" His eyes were wide, staring at something that wasn't quite there. Xander's abdomen clenched, as if he were being struck in the stomach repeatedly. In his mind, Buffy realized with horror, he probably was. Swallowing, she crouched down and wrapped her arms around the young man's shoulders, rubbing his back and soothing him.

"He's not here. It's not real," Willow cooed. And, if she had her way, it would never be real again. It was a touching sight, had it not been for the situation. The three main Scoobies, holding eachother up and providing comfort.

Soon enough, the young man began to calm down. Faith momentarily ceased her nervous prowling to toss him her bandanna to wipe the sweat off his brow, and she stalked into the kitchen. Giles turned and caught Tara's eye. Perhaps it was magical Watcher telepathy, or perhaps they just picked up on these things.

Fact was, Tara was a powerful witch. The wards she had put up in her home, no evil spirit should have gotten in at all, and any corporeal evil would've triggered a warning. This could mean any number of things.

The first being, whatever this was, it wasn't necessarily evil. The things it did could be considered evil, and evil may have brought it into their world, but evil was not in its intent. If it was, it would never have gotten into the house.

"What's the weakest dimensional wall here?" Tara asked.

Buffy pulled Xander up to a sitting position, letting him lean on her. "The Hellmouth? Duh?"

Giles shook his head. "The Hellmouth merely allows for the creation of such portals, Buffy. If you were looking for a ready crack in the wall to banish a demon, the best place would be-"

"Kingman's Bluff," Anya said, vworping into the room unnoticed. "I'm familiar with it. The earthquake wasn't my usual gig, but D'Hoffryn and Proserpexa never did get along."

Tara's eyes bugged. "S-seriously? Are my spells not working anymore? W-what the heck?"

Anya glanced at Xander. "Wow, he's a mess," she sat down on the coffee table across from him. "Wanna tell me how you felt, boyo?"

The two girl Scoobies seemed to bristle and Giles stepped forward. "Leave him be."

"The sooner he can tell me what's gone on in his head, the sooner we can figure this out, get rid of it, and Hallie can stop her bitching."

"Ungh…" Xander's head lolled as he tried to look the demon in the eye.

"Oh my," Anyanka said. "He's gone non-verbal. Is this from the demon, or was he always retarded?" Surprisingly, it was Tara who reached out smacked the demon, flecks of blue sparking between her fingers as she tried to whap Anyanka.

The demon turned around, looking very ready to eviscerate someone.

Tara glared back.

Anya's eyes narrowed.

Tara's brow quirked.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the demon turned back to the three on the couch. "Witches," she huffed.

"It's cool guys," Faith sauntered in from the kitchen, carrying a plate of Joyce's brownies. "I got this." She sat them down on Buffy's lap, and in a surprisingly gentle voice, "Xan-man? Here, Mrs. S's brownies always make me feel better."

"Faith," Buffy's voice cracked. It was odd, seeing the other Slayer be this gentle. How bad was this situation that it drove _Faith_ of all people to serving brownies? The younger Slayer cared for others, that was obvious. But her caring was the 'beat up the bullies for you' kind, and this seemed…wrong, somehow.

Faith spared her a 'not now' glance, and broke out into a huge grin when Xander reached out and grabbed a brownie. "There we go!" Buffy shifted so that he was a little more upright, and Tara scooted closer, hovering over Willow's shoulder and ready to make sure he didn't collapse again.

His eyes opened blearily, and he opened his mouth to take a bite.

SMOOSH

Motor functions were apparently not all there yet, as the brownie missed his mouth completely and hit his chin instead. The young man pouted. "This is the exact _opposite_ of what I wanted it to do," he whined.

All it once the tension in the room seemed to vanish. Buffy was the first to snort, and her snort triggered Faith's laughter. Willow turned to Tara, still hovering over her shoulder. "See this?" she asked, tears still shining in her eyes though her smile took up most of her face. "This is the wacky, demon-slaying family you bought into. Be prepared for much crying and laughing."

Tara smiled warmly, and rested her chin atop Willow's head. "I think I could get used to this."

Anya stared at the laughing, crying, smiling girls draped over couch with Xander. "I don't get it," she turned to Giles. "Is this some sort of harem situation?"

"Oh dear lord…"

* * *

><p>"But didn't they say to stay at my house?" Dawn stumbled to keep up with the Slayer making her way up the driveway. She had longer legs, but Artie was faster.<p>

"And we will," she blew her brown hair out of her eyes and shoved her hands into her pockets. "I just left some important stuff at home, that's all."

If her posture wasn't a big enough hint that she was lying, then her petulant tone was. Sure she'd never admit she was upset at being left out, but surely she'd get a chance to listen in.

"What stuff?"

"Just..stuff. Woah, nelly!"

She sidestepped the oncoming rush of armed teenagers and old guy quickly enough, though she did jump a little in surprise. Buffy skidded to a halt and patted her sister on the head.

"Bye Dawn, gonna go vanquish evil, tell mom I might be home late, love you, bye!"

Tara pivoted on her heel to look at Artie sternly. She opened her mouth to ask why she wasn't where she was supposed to be, but was cut off. "We'll go back to Dawn's house after I get my stuff."

Tara stood there dumbly for a moment as everyone else was piling into Giles' car, until she remembered something else. "Why's there so much prune juice in our fridge?"

Art blushed. "That'd be from Dev."

The Watcher cocked her head. "Your little cousin who likes talking about g-guts and camp? She sent you all that prune juice?"

"Eyup."

"Dare I ask why?"

"The letter says I have to send it to some lady in Texas. Dunno. Don't talk to my cousins much." She paused. "At all. Ever. Gotta indulge the relatives somehow."

"Who's paying for the shippi-"

"Tara, c'mere! You can sit with me!"

Artie and Dawn stood and watched, with no little awe, as the redheaded blur known as an utterly smitten Willow Rosenberg dragged the other witch by the arm into the never ending abyss that was Giles' vehicle.

Dawn watched as the car puttered down the road in a cartoonish manner. "You gonna go get your stuff now?"

Artie pouted, lack of information and lack of involvement getting to her. "Nope."

* * *

><p>Within Giles' clown car, it was actually quite a bit roomy. Except 'Actually' was 'Oh, goddamn' and 'Quite a bit roomy' was a downright lie.<p>

Buffy and Faith had scrambled a bit for the front seat, and the blond Slayer had won the highly sought after spot in mere seconds. Willow and Xander were more resigned to their fates and trudged to the backseat and only shoved a little over who the poor bastard in the middle would be. Faith, having forfeited shotgun, immediately began scrabbling for one of the coveted window seats and tried to crawl over the witch and her friend.

All this happened in the 37 seconds it took to ask Art about the contents of the fridge.

And that's how Tara ended up being the poor bastard in the middle, squeezed between Faith and Xander, rolled down windows doing nothing to compensate for the California heat and the broken AC. Lack of seating had placed Willow in her lap, which, the young Watcher decided, was both a blessing and a curse.

Willow's scent was something that haunted her dreams. Well, daydreams at least. Tara couldn't really remember most of the dreams she had at night, but found that her waking thoughts were quite often about Willow. Watcher she may be, but she _was_ also a teenaged girl.

Under normal conditions, Willow smelled like skin. Well, clean, warm skin, but skin nonetheless. She supposed of she had as good of a nose as a Slayer's she's be able to pick up on all sorts of little nuances, but alas. Then there was that faint, sweet musk that sometimes wafted from her, a scent that Tara had only just barely begun to take note of today and made her mouth water. There was also that ozone scent that seemed to cling to all witches, and the scent of her hair, which of all ridiculous things reminded Tara of strawberry flavored, zero calorie PowerAde that her Sentinel friends seemed so fond of.

…but she kept her hands firmly at her sides, so it wasn't creepy at all.

"Tara?"

"Yeeesss?" she leaned back a little warily. _'Oh god, she can hear my creepy thoughts!'_

"Can you hold on to me?" Willow gestured. "Kinda don't have a seatbelt, y'know?"

"O-okay," she swallowed. "S-sure." She gingerly placed her hands on the redhead's waist. Why was she so nervous? She had spent a considerable amount of time with the girl's tongue in her mouth not 15 minutes before, hadn't she?

'_Well, she wasn't sitting on your lap then, was she Tara?'_

Another five minutes of driving, and she felt her nervousness seem to fade enough that she was able to relax in her seat, Willow leaning back against her comfortably.

'_Gee, this isn't so bad OH MY GOD-!_'

Giles had veered off road and started down a wooded path, the car's already crappy suspension taking a beating on the bumpy road.

A bumpy road that caused Willow to bounce in Tara's embrace.

The movement caused the redhead's hips to roll back, grinding a lapful of pert, 17-year old ass into a very horrified and all too thrilled Tara. The sandy-haired witch almost choked on her own tongue, and by the sudden intake of breath she heard, Willow had felt it too.

Beside her, she heard Faith chuckle.

This was going to be a long drive.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Willow was quite sure that somewhere along the line, a plan had formulated. Actually, scratch that. She was one hundred percent sure that some sort of plan had been formulated.

It was to what that plan actually was that stumped her.

_'Willow, you're a horrible, horrible person. There are special circles in Hell reserved for people like you!'_

What had started off as bouncing due to a bumpy road had taken a much darken turn as she purposefully ground her hips backwards into the older girl's lap.

_'And with other people in the car!'_

She honestly had no idea what had come over her, other than the fact that it was _Tara _and she was pressing down on the her front seam _just right _and every bounce the car made caused the young Watcher expel small puffs of hot air right in her ear-

'_-and Jesus H. Christ, Self! She's a human being! Not some…some masturbatory aid!' _

She tried not to focus on the soft, almost encouraging squeeze around her waist that happened with each roll.

Faith side-eyed the two witches, half-amused, half wanting to smack them upside the head.

The two were definitely gonna end up doin' it within the next few weeks, of that she was sure. Hell, good for them!

But now? Really?

Okay, so the dark haired Slayer was definitely calling the kettle black or however that saying went. Sure, she'd been known to eye up some sweet, non-gender specific ass while on the job, but at least she didn't go off pursuing them in the middle of it.

Well, not often at least.

Yet here they were, not 3 inches away from her. Red, giving some sort of sneaky, ninja, pseudo-lapdance while the Other Watcher stared glassy eyed at the car's ceiling, torn between a hallelujah chorus and praying for damnation.

She was kinda proud of Red, really. Just…not while practically on top of her, please? Despite whatever rumors may have been going around, Faith really didn't dig threesomes as much as one would think.

You always ended up picking a favorite.

Those thoughts aside, the two witches could screw each other blind of they wanted.

Just not right now.

Tara's brain was that sort of puddle any young woman's would be when presented with a slim, young redhead like Willow on their lap.

She was also currently trying to convince whatever higher powers that may have been watching that pulling Willow towards her every time she bounced was merely ensuring the seatbelt-less girl wasn't flung into the windshield, and that she was not, in fact, dry humping her young paramour in a crowded vehicle belonging to a fellow Watcher.

Tara herself would have found such an excuse stupid, but mentally referring to Willow as 'her young paramour' sent her to another place entirely.

Oblivious to the fairly obvious love-fest going on next to him, Xander stared out of the window.

This whole day was one giant blow to his pride. Sure, he could handle letting the girls doing all the fighting, with their magic and their superpowers. It had been embarrassing at first, acting like the big, strong, macho guy, only to end up rescued by the aforementioned girls.

It had been okay, because he found his own purpose.

The Slayers were the muscle, and the witches were the magic. Giles was a guiding figure, offering wisdom. But Xander? Xander was the comforter.

_'Comfortador, actually.'_

He offered the emotional support and stability that most of them could never find at home. He was, to an extent, the big brother of the group.

And now it seemed he couldn't even be that.

Almost everyone was aware of his home situation to a certain point, but to have it openly acknowledged? Yikes.

And so he watched. That was all he felt he was good for now, anyways.

They were getting close, she just knew it. The further out they got, the more obvious it became, as it seemed more and more of Sunnydale's youth had been forced to relive awful memories and deal with them.

Buffy watched with no surprise at all as Amy Madison held a book burning in front of her house, waving at them as they drove past, even with the remains of Catherine's library adding to the town's already high concentration of ash.

She observed with a bit more surprise when that obnoxious boy, Warren Mears, crashed through the front door and duked it out with his old man in the front yard. Not very successfully, but it sure explained a bit.

Buffy turned away from the window, shaking her head. Revenge, reconciliation, it seemed to drive the town's less fortunate youth to attempted patricide, as evident from the ambulances whizzing about. Those who couldn't retaliate, like Amy, seemed to have found healthier outlets.

Or at least it seemed that way.

As far as she knew, Xander wasn't about to leap out of the car to hunt down his dad anytime soon. It seemed that he and Faith had decided that getting rid of this demon was outlet enough for them. She didn't know Tara all that well, but a glance into the rearview mirror tol-

'_What the frilly heck? Really? In the car?'_

"We're here," Giles said.

The kids in the car all jumped in surprise, yanked out of their reveries. Willow was unfortunate enough to bump her head on the ceiling.

"Owww…" Tara rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and was rewarded with a smile. The others were dragging themselves out of the vehicle, and Tara planted a small peck on the back of Willow's neck before joining the others outside.

The redhead sat there dumbly for a few more seconds. _'Huh. Guess she liked it.'_

"Willow!"

"Oh! Ah, coming Buffy!" As she got out of the car, she thought she saw Faith nudge Tara and mouth the word 'coming' with a wink. Giles, who'd been standing near them, cleared his throat and reached up to grab his glasses, ready to avoid an uncomfortable topic or offer exposition.

"Yes well, Faith's fourth grade level of immaturity aside-"

_"-sixth_ grade, actually. And 'immature' is just a word boring people call fun people to feel better about themselves."

"Thank you, Faith. As I was saying, uphill we go?" He pointed up Kingman's Bluff.

At the top of which green mist swirled. Giles' finger drooped just a tad.

Xander tilted his head and squinted his eyes. "Everyone else can see this too, right? It isn't just me?" Everyone nodded. "How'd we not notice that?"

Buffy snorted. "Yeah, tell me about it. It looks like a radioactive version of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'."

Everyone stared at the petite Slayer.

"What? My mom runs an _art museum_ you guys! I know paint-y things!"

Feeling now desire to argue Buffy's credibility, they began to trudge uphill. The Slayers made it up first, followed by Xander and the witches, Giles last. Nothing to be ashamed of. They were teenagers who ran for their lives on a nightly basis, and he had made it up in half the time it would have taken another man his age.

"Tch, took you long enough." The two vengeance demons sat at the top, Halfrek pacing nervously while Anyanka just looked miffed. Halfrek placed a hand on her arm.

"Ignore her. Thank you for coming to help, really."

Faith looked around at the green mist surrounding them. "Yeah, okay. So, what is this? It..it ain't gonna turn me into a Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle, is it?" Anyanka opened her mouth to express her confusion but Halfrek, who worked with children and understood the reference, chuckled.

"Not at all. Like we said, green is the color of between worlds. Anything that comes through is going to be stained with it."

Buffy's voice cracked. "**This is the demon?**"

Faith lowered the hand she was waving through it, Xander and Giles jumped and scrambled away, and Tara and Willow pulled each other closer.

"This," Willow swallowed. Her face was pressed against the top of Tara's chest. "This is a big demon."

"Like a building big," Tara agreed. She blushed as she realized how hard she was holding Willow to her. "S-sorry," as she dropped one arm. The redhead smiled at her and snuggled closer under one arm.

"S'okay."

Anyanka crossed her arms. "I'll be the one to open the portal for Hallie. All you need to do is bully Godzilla here into it."

"Oh, so she gets _that_ pop-culture reference?"

The demon stared at Faith and Xander, confused. "What pop-culture reference?" The two stood flabbergasted, and she turned on her heel to stand at the edge of the bluff. "Whatever. Get to work while I rip open this trans-dimensional hymen."

There were several mixed looks of disgust amongst the Scoobies. Faith mouthed a 'How?' to her sister Slayer and Buffy made a face, waving her hands in the mist as if it would herd it towards Anyanka's general direction.

After several more minutes of similar Benny Hill-esque shenanigans, Tara turned to Willow with a lopsided smile. "Ready for another magic lesson?"

She blinked up at her owlishly, half wondering why the owner of that gorgeous smile wasn't kissing her again. "Wut?"

There it was again, that ever patient smile. "Before I teach you about invisibility, how about one to make the unseen seen?"

Willow finally snapped out of it, her mind registering what was being said to her. "Wow, really? You're gonna teach me now?"

"No time like the present and I believe in teaching on the job," she grinned.

Willow licked her lips, '_I wonder what else she could teach me._'

"Grab my hand, Willow."

She giggled. "You'll get no argument from me!"

Tara blushed and kissed the top of her head. "Kay. Concentrate. Feel the ground beneath you, how if moves?"

"The shifting of tectonic plates?"

"Yeah," she nudged. "Draw your energy from that. Now, focus on the mist. Don't look at it, don't look through it. See. See what's in it."

No.

Way.

"Tara! I can see them! I can see them!" Exhilaration, joy at a job well done.

"I can see them too, Sweetie." Breathless.

"They…they look so _sad_."

"Let's help the others see, shall we?"

"Oh! Right." She squeezed Tara's hand, and in one voice intoned,

**REVEAL**

It wasn't one giant demon as previously thought. It was dozens of demons, as the four other Scoobies soon realized, moving towards Willow and Tara while still keeping their eyes on the newly revealed creatures. Not to say they weren't small, just that they weren't Godzilla sized. Each one stood at least 12 feet tall, and were about half as wide.

Each stood, staring mournfully at them.

"Q'bon demons," Halfrek sighed. "This isn't their reality, why are they here?"

Giles looked curious. "You recognize these demons? Why aren't they attacking?"

Halfrek shook her head. "I know of them. They're a relatively peaceful species." Faith scoffed. "No really, they are. Their home dimension is one step away from a hell dimension. Limited food, resources, and space. Their presence prevents overpopulation by having the newest generation turn on the previous."

Giles took the lull in conversation to step away from the teenagers.

"All in all, they're an extremely beneficial part of the ecosystem. In their dimension, at least. Definitely not yours." She scowled, "So why the _Hell_ are they in this dimension, interfering with _my_ job?"

She punctuated her question with a crack, as she produced a whip of fire in hand. The Q'bon all stumbled back whimpering from impact and the burn, their flesh hissing.

"Well? Answer me!"

CRACK! HISS.

More whimpering.

"Get out of here!"

CRACK! HISS.

Willow sobbed. "Oh, god…Make her stop! They're scared!" The others shared her sentiments. Demons or no, this level of brutality wasn't something they could stand by and watch. The larger Q'bon were pushing the smaller ones back, taking the brunt of the pain. Slayers, Witches, and well, anyone with a conscious stepped forward as Halfrek drew her hand back one more time-

-and stopped.

"Who screamed?"

The Scooby gang looked at each other. It wasn't them. It wasn't one of the Q'bon, half of whom were whimpering while the other half took their pain with quiet dignity.

It was Anyanka, scrambling away from the newly opened portal. "It's gone! There's nothing! All of it, gone!"

She was wrong. There was something.

That something was a vacuum pull, sucking them all towards the portal. 


	14. Chapter 14

WARNING: Probably not the most ick thing you've run across on the internet, but I really want to make my intent clear here. BtVS has always been described as a horror series, which is something I want to stay true to, and I kick up the gore just a tad. It'll only get worse as the story progresses, but I promise you, now that this horrible story-arc is coming to an end, it's also going to become more W/T centric, too.

**Chapter 14 (In which the story finally earns it's R rating. Probaby)**

Nothingness. Blank space where a world should be. No light, no shadow. Not even bits of debris floating about to let her know that this particular Earth had been blown up and destroyed.

It was as if it had never been.

It wasn't even that this Earth was gone. The other planets, stars, galaxies…this whole universe was gone.

A demon is meant to prey, to corrupt, and to destroy. Without things to victimize, there were no demons. Even a demon could recognize this utter emptiness as **wrong**.

"It's gone! There's nothing! All of it, gone!"

Scrambling, kicking away from the portal she herself opened, Anyanka felt this wrongness and for the first time in a very, very long time, felt fear. The tightening of her skull as her hair stood on end, the blocking in her throat that always made it feel difficult to scream, the sensation of her stomach dropping down lower than it should've been…

Leftover survival reactions from the ancestors of the human she once was.

"What the fuck is that?" Faith screamed, her throaty voice still carrying over the sound of air rushing past them.

Buffy bent her legs at the knee, bracing her thighs and back. "Everyone hold onto to something!" She lifted her forearm to shield her eyes as she looked frantically to her friends.

Xander was on the ground, arms wrapped around a fairly good sized boulder. His heels dug into the ground and his arm and neck muscles bulged as he held on against the pull. Her eyes turned to Faith who, surprisingly, had one arm wrapped around Giles' waist. Her free arm was wrapped around the trunk of a tree, and her legs took on a similar position to Buffy's.

It was Tara and Willow who seemed to fare far better than their friends. The older witch's forearm was engulfed in blue flame, hand thrust against the ground. Willow was pressed tightly against her, face buried in the ruffles of Tara's jacket.

"Don't let go. Whatever you do, don't let go!" The only response she received was Willow violently shaking her head against her.

"Never,never,never!"

Her left arm shook as she channeled her magic through it, binding herself to the very earth below. There were no trees or rocks near enough for them to hold onto, so magic it was. Twisting down into the ground. Down, down, down…

_'Woah wait a minute. Nasty temple thing down there, REALLY don't wanna touch that. Backing up, backing up..'_

But backing up wasn't an option.

Too deep put her in danger of touching that darkness, not deep enough put her in danger of well…danger.

By herself, it was a no brainer. Her Slayer was elsewhere and out of danger, and there'd be more Watchers to come. Even with the others, it was still a no brainer. What were two Watchers, civilians, and Slayers when a third Slayer was out there?

If only it weren't for the redhead tucked under her arm.

Willow.

Only a few wonderful talks and several kisses, yet already so precious.

Willow made her deliriously happy, and while several kisses a couple does not make, there was that possibility now. They had not talked about what those kisses meant for them, and honestly, when had they had the chance to? But what they _could_ mean, what they _could_be?

That was enough to make her be a bit selfish.

Tara tensed herself, ready to send another pulse of power downward. The current anchor wasn't strong enough and the two were beginning to slide, slowly but surely, towards the portal.

"Tara."

A slim hand was placed over her own. Soft, except for the pads of the fingers which were used to spending hours at a time on a computer keyboard, and the side of the middle finger where a pencil was usually held with equal fervor.

"W-willow?" The younger witch's smile was strained, but she still found comfort in it. "What're you doi-"

And then a pulse of power, from Willow's hand to her own. It tingled up and down her arm, unsure of where to go before following the current of Tara's own power, heading down.

In her mind's eye, she say the red twist and writhe around the blue down, down, down…And then **out**.

_'Holy._

Shit.'

Like the roots of a great tree, the tendrils of now purple energy spread out and around, but never touching the dark temple below, binding them to the ground below, good and strong. Tentatively, they stood.

Grins were exchanged, one lopsided and one just a tad bit dazed. They were two steady things in a whirlwind, teetering not from the force of the portal, but their own adrenaline rushes.

"Yeah, okay, good for you," Buffy shrieked, interrupting their moment. "Now what about **that**?"

Oh right. The portal.

Faith screamed, "Duck!" just as one of the smaller Q'bon soared overhead. The rip between universes was not quite as large the demon, and it hung in the air for a few moments, being sucked in chest first.

There was a sickening crack as its spine bent over backwards. The demon let out a low bellow as his body began to fold and bend in on itself, and Willow was sickeningly reminded of a wad of play-dough being shoved through a press.

And with a POP! he was gone.

Halfrek cackled. She was in full demon face, whipping back to full force, herding them towards the portal. "Open it up a bit wider, Ahn!"

Anyanka looked at her friend, horrified. "We don't do this to demon brethren!" And it was true. As a vengeance demon, her targets were almost always human. D'Hoffryn's girls always had a good reputation within the demonic community.

"They aren't brethren!"

That was also true. True demons were creatures of chaos, destruction and pain. Then there were the things that were neither human nor animal that, with an added bit of mysticism, were branded demons by the rest of the world. The Q'bon were of the latter, and Halfrek had no allegiance to them.

One by one, the large, gentle demons were forced towards the portal. One by one, not a sound save for a few mournful bellows, from the pain or from the others, knowing what was to come.

In old kung-fu movies, they broke celery sticks to imitate the sounds of bones breaking. When they started patrolling with Buffy, Xander and Willow learned that it was eerily similar to the snapping of a Kit-Kat bar. But the rending flesh combined with the sick, wet sound of spines snapping was a new sound entirely.

And they could do nothing but watch.

Well, they could intervene, but getting sucked into the tear wasn't really gonna help anyone, now was it?

Buffy turned to Willow and Tara. "Can't you guys do something to close it?" she shouted.

"No," Giles shouted from somewhere behind her. "Only the demon who opened it can close it!"

All eyes turned to Anyanka, and the Scoobies' mingled voices joined the cacophony whirling around them.

"Close it!"

"Shut the damn thing!"

"Stoppit! Please!"

"Don't." Halfrek glowered at them all, whip coiled tightly in her hand. "It's for the best, Ahn."

"I _can't_close it anyway!" she turned to the demons, human faced and brows knit. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't be. If this was a man you'd been called on against, you wouldn't hesitate to throw him in.."

Giles spluttered. "What do you mean you _can't_?"

Anyanka shook her head wildly. "With dimensional portals…I'd have to work with the Anyanka from that dimension to close it up, but there is no other Anyanka over there! There's nothing!"

"But if you don't close it-"

"I know!"

"Can't you close it up by yourself?"

She shook her head again. "I _can't_! Not without-" Her hands flew to her throat, where a large, gaudy amulet rested.

Halfrek turned around. "Don't! One more left." The last Q'bon, the smallest the group(though that was still quite a lot) hunched over, the vengeance demon gripping him with one horn.

"Dammit, Hallie!" Her friend screamed. "Just let it go! It wasn't that big of a deal to begin with!"

Halfrek laughed. "Do you even hear yourself right now? The most feared vengeance demon in several worlds, 'not that big of a deal'? Ha!"

Willow flinched. Her laugh was an awful thing. She expected some sort of witch's cackle, but no. That would have been far too feminine. It was short, harsh, masculine, and frankly, it sounded like a bark. She'd know. She was more of a dog person.

It was at that moment they realized that sudden morality aside, Anyanka was still a demon. And demons did not like to be mocked. Her hands flew to her throat, and beside her, Willow heard Tara suck in a sudden breath.

See? **That**was a feminine sound.

The amulet was torn from around her neck, and the skinny demon squared her shoulders and set her jaw.

The amulet, chain and all, were chucked towards the portal and immediately sucked in, Anya stumbling to her knees on the ground.

"Noooo! Keep it open!" Halfrek let go of the Q'bon and dove for it. "Just one more!"

What happened next would remain unrivaled in terms of disgusting for the next few months.

What the witches had struggled to do, the vengeance demons had done naturally, but the moment she left the ground, Halfrek's spell was undone. Her body twisted mid-leap, curling around her fist as the amulet slipped just of her grasp. By then, she had been caught in the portal's suctioning force. It was almost comical as she imitated a swimmer, trying to fight the current.

The scream that accompanied it, however, was nowhere near as funny.

Willow screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in Tara's jacket again, the older girl's shallow breathing almost drowning out the sounds of one or two of her friends retching.

Slayer or not, that was just the kind of reaction you get when witnessing someone's intestines get sucked out of their anus. Yes, they had come across bodies in far worse conditions, but this was the first time they had witnessed something like this, and Tara had the shaking feeling that it wouldn't be the last.

The worst part was, as a demon, she remained conscious through the whole thing.

It felt like minutes, but it could have only been seconds. When that wet mass of grey, pink, and red went taut, it started pulling the rest of her into the ever shrinking portal as well.

When it finally closed, everything below her arms were gone. Still, demon powers held out as she tried to crawl around the grass, trailing blood along. Even now, when all she could manage was a pained gurgle, Halfrek was beginning to heal. Anya, still wobbly legged, squatted down to look her in the eye.

"We're demons," she said plainly. "Death and destruction is what we do. But _destroying_the world? That's straight out of those bad spy novels women seem to love so much."

Gurgle. Gurgle gurgle gurgle.

She sighed. "No, you definitely let your own wants get in the way of what was best."

Gurgle.

"See, that's the thing, Hallie. We can corrupt it, we can break it, we can harass the shit out of the things that live in it…but destroying it? We'd all be out of jobs. Or homeless. Either way," she shrugged. "You won't be needing this anymore. And well, I do." With a twist, she tore off the vengeance demon's jeweled necklace and placed it upon herself.

Buffy dropped down to her knees, muscles screaming. "Oh god," she gasped, chest heaving.

"Yes, you were kind of useless, weren't you?" Anyanka curled her lip in distaste, before turning to the remaining Q'bon. "Now, as for you? Come with me, I think I know a job you'll be perfect for." With that, the two demons were vworped out.

It was Faith who broke the ensuing silence. "What the fuck was that?" She shoved Giles off of her.

Buffy pulled Xander to his feet. "Faith, c'mon-"

"No I won't c'mon! We just sat there with our thumbs up our asses while a _demon_just saved the world!"

"And is that so bad?" Tara's voice was unraised, but it rang through the area clearly. "The world is saved, isn't it? It shouldn't matter who."

She shrugged off her bomber jacket and draped it over Willow's shoulders. The redhead protested. "Tara, I'm okay. No need to baby me."

She laughed. "Trust me. If I'm babying someone, you'll know. Mostly because Artie'll be complaining loudly."

"But it's cold now."

"Nah," Tara shook her head. "I'm used to English winters. I'm fine."

"Well," she smiled a Willow-y smile. "If you're sure."

No one noticed the woman, once known as Hallie, once known as Halfrek, once known as Cecily, as she lay dead.

Except for the crows.

* * *

><p>The ride back into town said more about their emotional states than any sort of argument ever could. Giles' white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel betrayed his otherwise calm exterior, though whether it was from processing new information or just shock from what he had witnessed, one couldn't tell. Buffy was fiddling with Mr. Pointy in the front seat, and Faith was resting her head against the cool glass of the window, fuming silently. Two entirely different ways of expressing the same thoughts:<p>

'_Demon saved the world, Slayers did nothing._'

Willow was once again perched on Tara's lap, though the ride wasn't quite as fun as the first time around. Aside from the slight shifting around due to the bumpiness of the road, they didn't move much. At any other time, one of the other teens in the car would have totally called them out on it, using this as proof that Willow's earlier struggle to stay seated was fake, but right now just…didn't seem appropriate.

Tara had pulled her close, and so the redhead was leaned fully back against her. One arm was wrapped firmly around her middle, the other rested on her hip. The young Watcher's chin rested on her shoulder, and despite the ooginess of what she had witnessed, Willow felt a sense of calm wash over her.

_'I'd put up with all the transanal eviscerations in the world if it meant that she'd hold me like this afterwards.'_ Willow frowned. _'Sit through them. As in, watch them. Not put up with them myself!'_

"Do you guys realize, we pretty much witnessed an entire species get wiped out?" All eyes were suddenly on Xander.

"Doesn't really matter, does it?" Faith gruffed from her corner. "They're demons, and they were making a mess outta the town."

Willow let out an indignant cry, and Buffy jumped in her seat in surprise. "That's not fair!" Faith stuck her tongue out childishly. "It isn't! You heard that vengeance demon! Their world is _gone_, you guys. Gone. And they found themselves in a new place and just tried doing what they normally did! You can't blame them for that."

"She does have a point," Giles said. "Like an animal pulled out of its habitat. They were trying to adapt to things as well as they could." Buffy stared at him.

"That doesn't excuse what happened, though." She glanced around the car. "I feel bad about what happened to them, yeah. But when a bear wanders into your house and starts doing bear things, you don't feel bad for it when it gets shot."

"But Willow's right," Xander leaned forward in his seat. "Blaming the..the errr.."

"Q'bon," Giles said helpfully.

"Right! Blaming the Q'bon for what happened is like smacking a little kid for eating too much candy when you were the one who forgot to feed him!"

The sudden silence was palpable.

"O-or," Tara's voice shattered that silence. "Slamming a little girl into a table for dropping the too h-heavy thing you told her to carry." Pinned under Willow, it took a moment for her to turn from Xander to Faith, but once she had, her brow was quirked, as if challenging the other girl to argue.

"Or like putting out a cigarette on a little girl's legs when it was her mom who pissed you off, not her. Yeah, yeah, I get what you're saying now." She kicked at Giles' seat in front of her. "Are we there yet?"

When they were finally dropped off in front of Buffy's and Tara's houses, Willow's legs were still a bit shaky. She watched as the older witch pulled Faith and Xander to the side and spoke with them about something. Xander shook his head, but wrapped Tara in a one-armed hug and gave her a good shake. He was still shaking his head as he began his walk home, waving them all a goodnight. Faith however, seemed awfully pleased at what Tara had to say, and patted her on the back before rejoining Giles in his car.

Her best friend's voice made her jump. "You need me to walk you home?"

Willow shook her head. "My street's just a few blocks away, I think I'll be safe."

"You sure, Wills?"

With one more nod from the redhead, Buffy squeezed her shoulder once before entering her own home. Willow sighed, and approached Tara. Blue eyes twinkled in the dim porch light as they settled on her.

"Do you need me to walk you home?"

Geez, what was it with the women in her life and walking her home? "Um, no thanks. It's not that far and I can make it."

"Are you sure?" The concern etched on Tara's face was downright adorable, at least to Willow. Her eyes widened just a tad, and her brows furrowed, corners of her mouth pulled down in a barely hidden frown.

Willow's lips quirked. "Definitely sure." Then, she blushed. "Oh! Um, I wanted to give your jacket back, though." She moved to pull it off, but was stopped with a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, nah."

It was now Willow's brows' turn to furrow. "But it's _your_jacket."

"But you have to walk home." She clasped her hands behind her back and bounced on the balls of her feet nervously. "I-it's around 60 degrees tonight. That's cold for you Californians, right?"

Willow's eyes snapped up from where they'd been, focused entirely on the suddenly tight black T-shirt and bouncing Tara-parts. "Oh! Um, yeah. I guess so."

Tara grinned at her, and for a moment Willow thought she had been caught staring. And then Tara reached into her own shirt and pulled a pen out from between her breasts.

_'…what were we talking about again?'_

"I-if you're not gonna let me walk you home, at least do this." She grabbed Willow's arm and pushed her sleeve up. Well, her own sleeve, but the sleeve was currently on Willow. Tongue poking out from between her lips, she scribbled something on. "There!"

The redhead tilted her arm and squinted. "A phone number?"

Tara scratched the back of her neck nervously and scuffed the ground with the toe of her boot. "M-my phone number, actually. Call me? W-when you get home safe, I mean." Willow's face split into a wide grin.

"Of course!"

"A-and maybe," the Watcher averted her gaze, face burning red even in the dim light. "We could also, say, sometime during this upcoming phone call, plan a picnic together? O-or whatever. Like, maybe if picnics aren't you thing, we cou-Mmf!"

Willow stepped back from the kiss. "Picnics are totally my thing." She bit her lip, trying to gauge the other girl's reaction.

"Oh." Blue eyes blinked. "Okay then." And then she pulled Willow into another kiss. The redhead giggled and stepped back from it again. She swooped in again and their lips met for a third time before she flounced off, winking at Tara before making her way home.

She watched her go, a blur of red that stood out in the darkness until she couldn't watch anymore without straining her eyes. Tara let out an enamored sigh, and stepped into her house.

"Oh, Artie…"

A plate, which held the cheesy remains of an entire bag of pizza rolls was left unattended on the living room table, alongside several empty Caprisun pouches. Sprawled on the couch amidst the carnage was her Slayer.

Well, 'sprawled' wasn't quite the right word, as the 12 year old only took up about half of the couch. Her shirt was hiked up, leaving a bit of belly exposed. Tara sighed, tugging back down the shirt to normal levels.

"You'll get a tummy ache in the morning if you leave your belly exposed," she scolded quietly. Her Slayer groaned in response, stretching like a cat.

"Mwuh? Mommy?"

"Go upstairs and sleep, Art. I'll tell you all about today in the morning."

Artie scowled as she rubbed her eyes. "Rr…you're not mommyyyyaaahh!" She continued her protest through the yawn, even as she sat up and began her trek upstairs. Tara watched her half drag, half stomp her way up with a soft smile on her lips.

RRRRRIIIIIIIIING

Climbing onto the couch in the way she told Artie to never, ever do and tripping over the back of it, she dove for the phone, answering it with a breezy "Hello?"

"Tara? Heeeey, it's Willow!" On the other side of the call, Willow flinched. _'__**Heeeey**__? Really?'_

"Oh, Willow! Hi! Y-you make it home alright?" Tara almost slapped herself. '_Well, duh!_'

"Yeah. Your jacket was really warm.."

"Oh, it's lined with rabbit fur."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." It was the awkward phone call to end all awkward phone calls, and they were stuck in the middle of it. Willow began twirling the phone cord around her fingers. "So, about that picnic…Wanna have it this weekend?"

Tara perked up. "Oh, that's a great idea! I'm free on Saturday."

"Saturday's a good day for me, too! I know the perfect place in the park to have it," Willow gushed. "It's the park near the UC campus, you know where that is?"

"It's kinda hard to miss."

"The spot's pretty secluded, too. Maybe we can work on some spells while we're there?"

Tara froze. _'Oh god. Spells. Earlier I almost..what the hell was I thinking?'_

"That sounds great, Will."

The redhead beamed. Or at least she did til she remembered Tara couldn't see her. "And maybe, we can kiss some more, too?"

A hitch of breath. Booyah. "T-that sounds-"

"**Willow Danielle Rosenberg, did you just arrive home? At this hour? Wait, did you **_**walk**_** home at this hour? Young lady, you should have called me, I could've driven over and brought you home-!**"

The redhead turned to the force of nature known as Sheila Rosenberg. "Moooom! I'm on the phone!" She brought the receiver to her mouth. "Gotta go, but see you soon?"

"Oh, ye-" Click. "…bye."

Setting the phone down, Tara finally had the quiet time to think. Cleaning away Artie's mess, her mind drifted to a few particular seconds on the bluff. For a moment, just a mere moment, she had considered tapping into the dark powers resting underground. As she trudged upstairs and peeked into her Slayer's room to make sure she was sleeping, it finally sank in that it wasn't even for the greater good.

It was for purely selfish reasons, and only Willow's intervention had prevented her from taking in that dark energy.

In her bathroom, Tara rummaged through her medicine cabinet. Pulling the pill bottle open, she made a deal with herself.

'_You can be Artie's Watcher, __**and**__ be with Willow. But girlie, you can't let yourself touch the dark stuff, even for them.'_

She eyed her medication. Despite her dislike, it had been a lot worse when she was a kid and it was in liquid form. Pills were much better. "Well, bottoms-up," she said half-heartedly, and swallowed the large capsule, without water.

She eyed herself in the mirror, and was pretty damn pleased when nothing demon-y eyed her back.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15(in which I make up for what I put you guys through last chapter)**

Friday night.

Had the week really flown by so quickly? Willow shivered as she placed her clothes in the hamper. Her parents weren't home, and even if they were, she could wander around in her own room naked if she wanted, dammit.

It was quite telling, the fact that she had trouble justifying that even to herself.

But still, Friday night. For millions worldwide, it signified the beginning of the weekend. '_And Tara-picnics!'_Willow gushed. On a night like this, a typical teenager would be getting ready or already out with their friends, partying or just hanging out.

But Willow wasn't a normal teen.

Well, okay. Blame it on her relatively strict Jewish upbringing that she wasn't out partying. By the time Sheila and Ira had realized that they themselves spent most of their own time working on the Sabbath, Willow had already learned to prefer staying in on Friday nights. Plus with three Slayers, she rarely ever needed to go on actual patrols anymore.

That left more free time for _other_activities. Like say, the one she'd been doing every night since Monday?

Willow pulled the bomber jacket out from her closet, fingers trailing over the material. The dark brown leather was worn and soft, and she brought it to her face to inhale. There was the unmistakable scent of leather, a hint of warming fur, and the metallic tang that came from the zippers.

But that wasn't the scent she was savoring.

Beneath the scent of the jacket itself was heaven: juniper, eucalyptus, the ozone scent of magic, and the musk of healthy sweat.

'_Tara…_'

She hissed softly as she pulled it on, cold-stiffened nipples straining further as the jacket's fur lining tickled them. '_Geez Rosen-perve! What would Tara think if she knew what you were doing with her jacket?'_she scolded her teenaged hormones. And paused.

What **would**Tara think? Willow scooted up her bed, back propped up against a multitude of pillows and stuffed animals. As her hand travelled lower, her eyes fluttered shut, her thoughts taking her elsewhere…

"_That," the blonde Watcher said flatly. "Is definitely not what I loaned you my jacket for." Willow jumped, her eyes snapping open. She made no move to cover herself, though. A hint of the fantasy this was._

"Tara! I um.."

The older girl raised her eyebrow in an unamused manner, and Willow shut up under that gaze. She did, however, use that opportunity to ogle the other witch. A black button-up shirt that was most certainly not buttoned up. No bra underneath, and if Willow tilted her head juuust right, she could catch a glimpse of some ni-

"Willow?" Tara's voice made her tear her eyes away from the Watcher's chest, allowing Willow to take in the rest of her. Her brown belt was unbuckled and her pants were undone, the belt's weight pulling those slim-legged jeans down low on her hips. Willow licked her lips.

A glimpse of curls. No panties.

Willow dragged her eyes back up to Tara's face, and decided she liked what she saw there, too. Bangs falling over one eye, just the way she liked it. Lips quirked, the very edge of a smile and hooded eyes, gaze smoldering and sending Willow's skin tingling.

Panting, Willow withdrew her hand, leaving a glistening wet trail as she drew it up her body. It was Tara's turn to smirk, one side of her mouth quirking up in a way that made Willow want to stick her hand back down there again. Crawling up on the bed towards her, she stopped right between the redhead's legs.

"Thinking of me, were you?" Still paralyzed by the hotness before her (where'd that white Stetson come from?), Willow could only nod. "Yep," Willow didn't know why, she just looked like the type of girl who 'yep-ed'. "Definitely not what I had in mind when I loaned it to you."

Spazzy, babbling Willow who was not so spazzy and babbling in her fantasies quipped back, "Mrn, are you gonna punish me?" Her sultry façade was ruined when Tara grabbed her by the hips and she let out a squeak.

"Lucky for you," Tara whispered. "I like girls who can think out of the box."

And then she lowered her mouth and showed her exactly how much she liked them.

On her bed, head tilted to bury her nose in the jacket's collar, she groaned. A perfect fantasy, Tara's scent flooding her senses, and her hand thrust between her legs, Willow was just a few steps from bliss.

"Ohhhhhhh-"

* * *

><p>"-yeaaaaahh!"<p>

Tara honestly did not know how she hadn't slipped on the tile and cracked her head or run out of hot water, but she'd been in the shower for a half hour already. Any longer, and she'd miss her picnic with Willow.

Nevermind that it was 10 am Saturday and she wasn't due to meet her till around 12, she was allowed to have neurotic tendencies, dammit.

Tara hissed as her fingers accidentally brushed against her clit, too soon for her liking and utterly shattering her daydreams of being mercilessly teased by an utterly slutted-up version of the redhead.

Tara paused. '_Actually…_' she thought as her fingers brushed her clit again, imitating a curious and hesitant touch.

Willow would, wouldn't she? Sweet, young, virgin Willow. She _would_ touch Tara's clit on accident. At least, at first. Then her scientist's brain would take over, repeating the motion experimentally and taking note of Tara's reactions. She'd turn those wide, wide, beautiful greens to her and they'd lock eyes. Her thin lips would quirk up in that kittenish smile, the one that would look _so hot_with the way her shower slicked bangs hung over her eyes.

'_She probably babbles during sex, too._'

She tried that out, and decided it had no place in her current fantasy. The previous yes, but the real Willow didn't seem like much of a dirty talker.

Not that it mattered. If she was willing, Tara'd teach her that, too.

_"Am I doing this right? I mean I must be, since you're so __**wet**__, but lemme know if I do mess up. Oh no, that didn't sound too smug, did it? I just meant th-ooohhkay, that's __**nice**__…"_

Perfection.

Fantasizing about a more realistic Willow was much more fun than fantasizing about the leather-and-lace version she had running around in her head earlier.

She'd save that one for later. In the meantime, Tara figured she could spare another 20 minutes or so.

**Downstairs (and not the sexy 'downstairs'. Geographical, a floor below type downstairs)**

"Yo! Anybody home?" Faith poked her head though the door and stepped inside when no one answered. She checked the kitchen, and greeted Artie, who seemed busy at work near the sink. "Hey, kiddo! T home?"

The younger Slayer turned to stare at her grumpily, still at work. "Showering still, I think. You can chill here til she's done, though."

"Right," Faith nodded, and headed back towards the front door. "You guys should really lock this thing." She put down her duffle bag and stepped back into the kitchen. "Seriously. That ain't safe."

"Most of the things that wanna kill us need an invitation," the girl shrugged. "And I think Tara beefed up the security spells."

"Well that makes sense, I guess." Faith put down a box. "Um, what're you doing?"

Art pivoted her body to reveal green leaves on a cutting board. "Being punished."

"…by chopping up oregano?" She dropped her backpack onto the table and strode over, suddenly curious.

"Basil, actually. And I'm not chopping them, I'm separating the leaves from the stem-y parts."

"Gonna totally sound like G-man here kiddo, but bear with me. Dare I ask why?"

The little one shrugged. "Turns out that desks are for homework and not for piling laundry on."

"Never stopped me." A beat. "Wait, and she's punishing for that by making you do kitchen work?"

It was then that Artie ducked her head sheepishly. "No, ah. See, then _I_said that bathroom mirrors were for brushing teeth, not for practicing lines to use on Willow."

The older Slayer snorted. "You deserve that, then. You don't make fun of a girl trying to get her game on. Unless it's B'. Then you bully the shit outta her."

"But she was doing karate chops and talking to herself!"

Faith laughed. An actual laugh. Not the throaty kind that she was almost famous for, not the fake one she did with guys at the Bronze, and legit belly laugh that had her shoulders shaking. "That's part of psyching yourself up. You'll be doing that lots, I bet. Before a date, before a fight. Like I said, don't mess with a girl ready to get her mac on. You deserve bigger punishment than that," she teased.

"Ugh, noooo! The leaves are all wet and they're making my fingers all wrinkly. Plus, the smell is hurting my nose!"

"I'm standing right here and my nose is fine."

The little brunette actually looked smug for a moment. "Tara says that the Council says that my sense of smell is better than any Slayer they've seen before."

Faith blinked. "No joke? Well I'm fastest. Yours is a useless skill."

She sniffed pitifully. "Yeah. I can't smell anything but basil right now. At all."

There was a groan and a thump from upstairs that made both Slayers look up in alarm. On her next inhale, Faith caught it. A bit faint due to distance and water dilution, but unmistakable nonetheless.

Well, to her at least. She glanced at Art, who in turn was looking upward with a worried expression, all the while snuffling and wiping her basil-victimized nose with her upper arm.

"Ah shucks! I can't smell anything like this. What'd you think that was?"

Faith looked up, and then back down to the child. "That," she said. "Is the sound of your over-sheltering Watcher being a genius. And _this_," she heaved both her bags over her shoulders and picked up her box. "Is me going to go get settled."

She exited the kitchen, leaving Artie to stand by the sink, still confused and unable to make sense of any scent. With another snuff, she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and wiggled it with irritation as a bit of wet leaf stuck to it. The young Slayer stood there for another two minutes, staring cross eyed at her nose as she tried to wiggle the offending piece of vegetation free. Then, a thought occurred.

"Wait," she said to no one in particular. "Did she just move in with us?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 (The Strange Insightful-ness of Faith Lehane)**

"Wow. Um, okay," Tara stared blankly at the nicely chopped basil leaves piled neatly atop the cutting board beside the sink. 'Piled' being the pivotal word.

'_Was I in the bathroom __**that**__ long?'_

Artie looked rather proud of herself, and if she had a tail, it'd no doubt be wagging. Tara couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess we'll be having pesto for the next couple of days, huh?"

"Faith moved in."

Wow. Okay, subtle topic shifts were not her Slayer's strong point. "O-oh yeah. I asked her last week."

"Last week?" Artie's already squeaky little-girl voice cracked. "A whole week and you didn't tell me?"

Tara's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "I…assumed you wouldn't mind. We have lots of room here, and honestly? Giles' couch is no place for a teenaged girl." She gave her Slayer a pointed look.

"But, but," Artie looked at her with large, dewy, brown eyes and curled her hands up to her own chest in a way that should have made Tara think of a squirrel but in reality reminded her of a baby T-Rex. "She's a _stranger_."

Goodness gracious, perhaps it was a good thing Xander had turned down the offer she extended both him and Faith after the Q'bon incident. He needed a way out of his current living situation as much as Faith did, if not more so. Still, if this was Art reacting to Faith moving in, Tara was little glad that Xander had politely declined.

"I don't understand," she furrowed her brow. "You've patrolled together before."

"Yeah, like, _twice_! And you were there! She's intimidating!"

"I've seen you joke around with her, Art."

The little Slayer sputtered. "Yeah, because there were these…boundries!" She flailed her hands in an effort to make her words understood. Meanwhile, Tara's eyebrows continued their rise, fall, twitch, furrow pattern.

Okay, so it seemed Artie-logic was not normal person logic. Tara sighed. "Just…give it a bit, alright? I'm sure you'll get used to each other."

Art watched her Watcher turn to go, and couldn't help a little scowl.

She did not like being kept out of the loop.

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT WTWTWTWT

KNOCK-KNOCK!

Tara poked her head into the downstairs bedroom. "Hi! Just checking to see if you were all settled?"

Faith sat up in the bed. "Hells yeah! Gotta say T, sweet digs. Waaay better than G-man's couch."

Tara ducked her head, blushing a bit. "I-it was no big deal. You definitely needed more space, a-and it is a Watcher's job to take care of Slayers, right?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Sure, whatever you say, T," she paused. "Really Tara. I can't thank you enough."

The Watcher tilted her head at the uncharacteristic sincerity in Faith's voice. "Not a problem. Really."

And then the moment was broken, Faith turning her attention back to the TV. "Shit, T. Didja see this yet?" It was a news report.

_"….Australia's rabbit population has hit an all-time low. Considered pests that have damaged the ecosystem since their introduction in the 19th century, all week it's been observed that younger rabbits have been turning on the older ones and __**killing**__ and __**eating**__them."_

_"Strange times down under, eh, Frank?"_

_"Along with the rumored 'bunyip' sightings going on over there, I'd have to say you're right Diane."_

"You don't suppose that was Anyanka and our Q'bon, do you T?"

Tara could only nod dumbly. "That's..that's genious, when you think about it."

Faith clicked the 'mute' button. "So..?"

"Huh?"

"T, as nice as you seem, you totally didn't just come in here to check on me." She took a moment to study the witch.  
>"Actually, you probably did. But really, what else is it?"<p>

Tara blushed. Was she so easy to read? "It's, um well, it's Artie."

"Baby Slayer? What up with her?"

"Just…maybe you could hang out with her a little? She's a little-"

"Freaked right now?" At Tara's wide eyed stare, Faith shrugged her shoulders. "You shoulda seen B' when I first rolled into town. Ain't meant to be more than one Slayer, it's just unnatural. The way B' says it, we're predators, all territorial like. Took me and B' a month or three before we figured out why she was so 'grrr' and I wasn't."

Tara nodded, cupping her own chin deep in thought. "You were the young, sleek thing coming into her town, doing her job."

Faith grinned wickedly. "I'll take that as a complement," then her face turned contemplative. "Wonder what it's like on baby Slayer's end? All little and getting started, and then a bigger, more experienced hunter comes in your house?" She sat up, boots hitting the floor. Hands on her knees, she sighed. "I'll be friendly."

"I'm terrified to know your definition of friendly," Tara deadpanned. "I want my Slayer to not be a territorial baby kitten, but I also don't want her being some sort of truant."

"Shouldn't you be at a picnic sucking face with Red?" Faith huffed as she stuck her head out of the bedroom door. "HEY KIDDO! LET'S GO FOR A WALK!"

Tara cringed as she ducked out the front door in time to hear a crash and Artie's terrified yelp. She glanced at her watch, tucking the picnic blanket safely under her arm.

11:30

She hoped she wasn't late.

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT WTWT

Back at the Rosenberg residence, Willow stared horrified at the various items spread on the kitchen island, then to the picnic basket.

"Oh god. White bread or whole wheat?"

A few of each should work, she decided, and reached for the bowl of chicken salad. Then stilled her hand. Maybe egg salad? What about tuna? She felt her stomach drop.

"Oh god. I never asked if she ate animal products!"

Panicked, she clamored for the jars of peanut butter and jelly. PB&J, the end all, be all of sandwiches. There was no possible way to fuck it up.

Unless….

Her hands flew to her hair. "Gotteniu! What if she's allergic?!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: The Picnic (part 1)**

Years of training honestly couldn't have prepared her for this moment. Tara skidded to a halt halfway into the park and brought her hand up to smooth down her hair. She could have taken the bus, but what was the point in that? The park was only fifteen minutes away on foot(if she sprinted), and it was good to take a could look at Sunnydale during the daytime.

It was pretty. Deceptively so.

She observed groups of children run past happily, the young woman in her smiling fondly at their antics while the Watcher went_'This half will live to see 25, this half will not.',_ an annoying, cynical habit borne of years learning demon fatality statistics.

'_So it's true then,'_ she mused. '_Watcher-dom really does turn you un-fun and over clinical. Ooh, lookit me! I'm Wesley!'_

Willow popped out from behind the tree. "Hey! You're here!"

Tara leapt back in surprise, though she did manage to keep her 'Gah!' internal and therefore dignified. "Willow! Hi!" She looked around. It seemed that, while in thought, she had cut though the playground, across a relatively large field of grass, and over a grassy ridge to where she and Willow had planned to meet.

The two stood awkwardly under the tree, not at all sure about what to do next. "Sooo…"

"O-oh! Right!" Tara spread the checkered blanket out, and motioned for Willow to sit by her. The redhead plopped down, and Tara scooted closer. "I figured we could eat, hang out, t-talk mag-mmmfp!" Her sentence was interrupted by the soft press of Willow-lips, and she sat there momentarily stunned before she got her lips moving, kissing back gently.

Willow pulled away, finger twirling in her own hair. "Sorry. I just wanted to do that again…"

"Don't be sorry," Tara breathed. "And please. You're welcome to kiss anytime."

"Anytime?"

"Well okay, not anytime. 'Mouth full of food' is to definitely be avoided."

Willow perked. "Speaking of which," she hefted the basket onto her lap. "Ta-da! You want tuna, chicken salad, egg salad, PB&J…"

"PB&J!" Tara blushed. "Ah, I- I mean, the peanut butter and jelly one sounds good."

"Excited much?" The redhead joked, handing her the wrapped sandwich and letting her fingers linger when they touched Tara's.

The blond witch smiled. "Haven't had one since I was a kid."

Willow choked, wide eyed. "You're kidding!"

Tara shook her head with a smile. "Nope. I mean, don't let what you see on TV fool you. We _do_ have peanut butter in the UK but," she smiled. "PB&J? That's venturing into 'oh god I grew up too fast, I missed you sandwich' for me."

The redhead shook her and smiled, unwrapping the chicken salad sandwich she had chosen. "Ah, yes. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the epitome of childhood," she pursed her lips. "Sometimes I totally forget you grew up over there. I mean, you don't have an accent or anything."

"I guess you can take the girl out of Alabama, but you can never take the Alabama out of the girl."

"Don't tell me you're gonna start drawling now, are you?"

"Aw, shucks lil lady!" She tried, really. But the giggles soon overcame her, and Willow snorted.

"Oh god that was awful! Normal Tara voice! Normal Tara voice, please!" she poked the other girl in the ribs. "Or some UK-speak."

"'UK-speak'?" Tara snorted. "Afraid not. Don't have the accent, and have always failed trying."

"Wow, even after all these years?"

Tara nodded. "Yup! Though if you need someone to do a bit of Welsh, I'm your girl." She bit into her sandwich and let out a moan.

A moan that made Willow wonder if pushing her up against the tree would be a proper way of making her repeat that sound.

"Oh god, it's the crunchy peanut butter, too!"

"You like crunchy peanut butter?"

Tara swallowed again. "Love it."

"Me too! All my friends hate it, and I'm all 'Well if you weren't too lazy to chew!' and stuff."

Tara paused mid-bite. "Too lazy to chew?"

"You wouldn't believe the conversations I have with Xander or Buffy," she deadpanned. "But me? A strong supporter of mouth exercise, thank you very much!"

Tara ducked her head shyly and scooted closer. "I-is that so?"

Willow opened and closed her mouth, a little unsure at what to say. The whole 'mouth exercise' bit had not been part of her mental script. "I, uh, guh."

Tara smirked. "You did really well on that revealing spell earlier this week." Willow blinked, the change in subject coming from out of nowhere.

"Thanks, I guess."

"If you want," she offered. "We could practice that a bit more if you want."

"An invisibility spell?"

"Well, no." Willow deflated. "Not yet a-anyway," Tara tried to backtrack, noticing Willow's disappointment. "Speaking from experience, it's best to learn how to undo a spell before actually doing it, so if something goes wrong, you'll know how to fix it."

Willow chewed her lip. "That makes sense, I guess. So, what invisible thing are we gonna un-invisible-ize?"

A slow, steady smirk crossed Tara's features. "Me."

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT WTWTWT

It…it hadn't turned out badly at all, actually. The older Slayer had shown her around the town, pointing out spots where demons liked to congregate, or places good for a quick snack while on patrol. Artie bounced behind Faith, one hand shoved in her jacket pocket, the other holding onto the cardboard-paper-cone thing that held her cotton candy.

The two Slayers had just walked around after Tara had left. Well, Faith walked. Artie continued to do an awkward little march, leg stiff and bouncing on the balls of her other foot before actually setting it down.

Step, bounce.

Step, bounce.

She hummed happily, taking another bite out of her cotton candy. It was green and watermelon flavored, which was kinda weird and strange because she had always thought the only two cotton candy flavors were 'Blue' and 'Pink', but it was also pretty awesome.

(Artie knew that 'Blue' and 'Pink' were not actual flavors so much as they were colors, but that's what they tasted like. The blue one tasted, well…blue, and the pink tasted pink)

"So…" Faith tried to break the silence. "How many vamps have you dusted, kiddo?"

"Oh," Artie lowered her cotton candy and pondered for a moment, eyes moving back and forth as she thought about it. "None."

"…you're shitting me, right?"

The way Art jumped at the loud crash and growl from a nearby alley answered the question for her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: What's Another Word For Gleaming?**

"Me."

The little hamster in Willow's brain fell of its wheel. "Come again?"

Tara smiled her shy little smile. "You heard me."

"Yeah, but repeat that, because you made it sound like you wanted me to fling spells at you," she paused. "That's a bad idea, just to remind you."

"No, no," Tara nudged her teasingly. Then, she stood. "Here. I'll pop into a quick glamour, and you try to find me and undo it."

Willow took Tara's hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. "So you won't actually go invisible?"

"Heavens no," she shook her head. "That'd be a disaster. Just a charm to make myself blend in with the surroundings."

"And the incantation I need to use?"

Tara regarded her thoughtfully. "_Appareo_ should work."

Willow giggled. "Latin for 'appear'?"

"Gee, what clued you in?"

"I'm a clever girl!"

Tara grinned at Willow over her shoulder, sticking her tongue out and waggling her eyebrows. Willow returned the gesture, and with a muttered, "_Latesco,_" the older girl was gone.

Willow's hand shot out. "_Appareo_!"

Nothing happened.

"Not quite," she heard from her left. "Nice inflection, though."

The redhead whirled around, hair whipping in the breeze. "_Appareo!_" Nothing. "Oh, c'mon!"

"Now, now," right behind her this time. "F-frustration is a cute look for you, but it isn't gonna help when it comes to magic."

Willow was panting, hands on her thighs as she hunched over. "This," she wheezed. "This didn't seem all that tiring a second ago."

"Pace yourself," Tara said firmly. "You're throwing way more energy in a spell that doesn't need all that much."  
>Willow stood up straight again, not quite wheezing as much. "Too much energy?" Despite her questioning, her eyes flitted back in forth, still searching.<p>

"Think of it this way: You're dropping a whole house on a vampire when all you need is a piece of wood."

Willow's eyes fluttered closed as she sucked in another lungful of air. "So, I'm all Captain Overkill, huh?"

"Pretty much, but we can work on it some other time." She was right in front of her now. "Also, I think we should stop. You look exhausted."

"No, no, no!" Willow protested. "I got this."

A warm chuckle. "Fine. Let's make a deal?"

Willow nodded so furiously she began to resemble Elmo. "Deals are good!"

"I-if you manage to pull this off without expending too much energy, as in, you can stay on two feet when I walk you home, I'll give you a reward."

"Ooh, what kind?"

"…a kiss?"

"I dunno," Willow teased, feeling brave and also a lot better. "I seem to be able to get those from you without much effort."

There was a sound, as if Tara was toeing the ground shyly. "M-movie and dinner? Next weekend?"

"Mmm, movie and dinner?" She smiled. "Most people would've said 'dinner and movie'."

"I figured if we watched the movie first, we'd have something to talk about over dinner?"

"You seem awfully confident in my abilities, Tara. M'kay, you got yourself a deal! Shake on it?" She reached out to where the voice had been coming from, only to come in contact with nothing.

"Nice try."

"Phooey!" Willow began stepping this way and that, moving around wherever she heard Tara's voice. "If you don't mind me asking, why the glamour? Why not do the full invisibility spell?"

"O-oh, um. It's just one of my personal rules."

Willow heard the voice from right by the tree. '_Bingo._' Still, she tilted her head in the opposite direction, to make it seem as if she thought Tara was elsewhere. "And that rule is…?"

"Don't go for complicated and flashy. The simplest spells are just as effective. It's less draining that wa-"

Quick as a flash, Willow pivoted on her heel and grabbed Tara by what seemed to be shoulders, pressing her invisible body to the tree. Yes, definitely the shoulders, as it was a pair of warm breasts pressed against hers, a firm thigh pressed between her own, and luscious lips just barely a hair's breadth from her own suddenly dry ones.

Tara had brought up her own hands to grip Willow by the shoulders as well.

"And another would be?" she husked, desperate to break the silence yet wanting to revel in it all the same.

"Don't use magic if you can do it with your hands."

Tara held. Willow trembled.

Tara's spine tingled. Willow caressed.

"_Appareo,_" she whispered, and the seemingly empty space between her and the tree seemed to trickle away, and a familiar form returned.

With it came the realization that Willow had missed those blue eyes in the past 15 minutes.

The feelings that realization filled her with were so intense, the only logical thing to do was pull the Watcher into a kiss not like any the two had shared before. Tara's grip on her shoulders tightened, and a tentative tongue ran over her lower lip, pleading entrance.

'_Mrn, steamy._'

15 minutes later, the two were seated back on the picnic blanket, blushing in the way young girls were wont to do.

The makeout session had lasted for quite a bit, involving the mussing of hair and quite a bit of tongue, much to the girls' mutual delight. It had, however, come to a screeching standstill when Willow, in the throes of passion, eagerly bucked against Tara's thigh, at which point the two girls decided together that'd it'd be best to just sit down and 'cool off'.

'_Good thing too,_' Willow thought. _'What kind of crazy person would I be if I just pinned her to the tree and rode her thigh right here in broad daylight? With children around! Seriously, who the hell does that?'_

Color rose to her cheeks as the very scenario she just described to herself came to life in her mind's eye.

"O-oh."

Willow's eyes widened, and she turned her attention away from the singular blade of grass she'd been fiddling with. "'Oh'? What 'oh'?"

"That oh," Tara said, pointing at a small group of people.

Willow followed. "Oh!" she nodded. "Homeless folk."

"They," Tara tilted her head. "They look so…together."

Indeed they did. 3 men and a woman, and two children darting about amongst them. The shabby state of their dress did nothing to take away from the smiles on their faces, weary though they were.

"Yeah," Willow murmured. "A lot of people think homeless people are all angry, crazy, or drunk all the time, but that isn't true. People need people, no matter how or where you live."

Tara observed as the four adults deposited what bags they had on a picnic table and sat down, watching as the two children were content to chase after butterflies a few yards away. "People are amazing."

"Mrn?"

"Think about it," blue eyes twinkled, and Tara rested her chin on her hand. "No matter how s-shitty the situation is, human beings always seem to find something that keeps them going."

Willow returned her gaze to the group. "It's a shame they'll likely be dead this time tomorrow."

Tara stared at her.

Willow clamped her hand over her own mouth. "Ohmygod that sounded awful! I'm sorry!" A deep breath, face red. "What I meant to say was, when demons can't get into homes, they usually go for the most vulnerable." She nodded to the children.

They sat quietly, Willow biting her lip and Tara worrying at the frayed edge of the blanket. Finally, she spoke.

"That sucks."

Willow was stunned. That…that summed everything up perfectly. Turning to the young Watcher, she opened her mouth to speak, but fell short. Tara's gaze was averted, and a pink hue settled on her cheeks.

_'She thinks she's said something stupid.'_ She lifted her hand, as if to brush a stray lock of hair behind Tara's ear.

And then chickened out.

"You're right," she said, letting her arm flop back to her side. "It _does_ suck." Tara flashed her a grateful smile, and Willow preened under its effulgence.

Willow blinked. '_Effulgence? What the hell?'_

"Artie and I can patrol here tonight, if Buffy or Faith don't need us elsewhere."

"I just wish I could do more to help, you know?"

Tara quirked her brow, and peered down at the picnic basket between them, filled to the brim with the mixed contents of Willow's pantry.

"Oh."

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT 

"Shhhh," Faith raised her hand, gesturing to the younger Slayer behind her. She flicked her wrist and twirled her finger, instructing Art to circle around.

"What does that mean?"

The leather-clad Slayer sighed. '_No point in hand signals now.'_ She turned to the 12 year old. "Circle around. Don't wanna have this one make a run for it."

The alley, as it turned out, was one of the very few in Sunnydale that didn't end in a dead end. With her on one end, and Art at the other, it'd be impossible for anything to get away.

It seemed that the crash had come from some falling boxes. Wait, scratch that. Shipping crates. Large, heavy, wooden crates. She maneuvered them easily. Artie, she noted with a bit of amusement, had to lift her legs higher in order to step over.

There was the sound of struggle, and vicious growls.

Faith took a split second to think of an awesome way to make an entrance, and leapt over the crates.  
>"Ah-yiyiyiyiyiyiyi-ai…aw man."<p>

"Oof!" Artie stumbled into her back. "Whassa matter?" She rubbed her nose and tried to peer over Faith's shoulder to see what had the older Slayer disappointed.

'Tried' being the operative word. Too short to do so, she ducked down and peeked around Faith's waist, instead.  
>"Oh," she murmured. "That's not a monster!"<p>

The corner of Faith's lip twitched as she took in the sight of what was, to put it simply, the biggest dog she'd ever seen. "Some folks would disagree with you, kid."

The dog struggled again, snarling at the crate that had it pinned down, before letting it trail off into a high pitched whine.

Artie whined too. "Aw, Faith! He's hurt!"

"'She', actually." The older Slayer was by the animal's side already. "Big bitch, too. I'd say St. Bernard, maybe a Caucasian Shepherd."

Art stared.

"Had a short dog walking gig back in Boston," She pointed her finger at the little brunette warningly. "Don't tell."

"I-I won't!"

She turned her attention back to the trapped animal, who looked like she'd much rather gnaw her own leg off, rather than accept help. "Yeah, yeah. Been there too," she soothed.

"She's pretty," Art pointed out. "Why's she all alone here on the streets."

"Owner probably got eaten," Faith said, bracing herself against the crate. "Hence," she grunted. "The alone-ly state of our girl here."

"And people just leave her alone?"

"Probably got off all her own. Homeless folk and stray animals? Free meal for any of the nasties in this town. You notice the lack of shelters in this town, for people or animals?"

With a final heave, the heavy wooden crate was off the dog. She stood up, gingerly applying weight on her hind paw. When she deemed it in good enough condition, she shook herself, and turned to Faith panting.

She stared.

Faith stared back.

She wagged her tail.

Faith could feel a smile coming on.

"Can we keep her?!" Artie bellowed.

The magic was broken, and with a deep wuff, the dog bowled Faith to the ground. Bringing her hind legs up, she kicked off of the Slayer's chest and was down the alley and around the corner before the young woman even had time to finish wheezing her, "Ow, my tits!"

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT

"That was really cool of you, Willow."

The redhead stopped.

After they had passed out the sandwiches, the two witches had gaily(and how so!) chased each other back to the park entrance, giggling and running and occasionally one tugging the other along.

But now…

"'m not cool," the redhead murmered.

"Come again?"

"I'm," she blushed. "I'm not cool."

Tara blinked. "Yeah you are." She stated it plainly, like it was a fact to her.

Willow shook her head. "Noooope!" She turned her big, dewy eyes to the Watcher. "Tara, I'm…I'm not some uber witch monster fighter, I dress like a doofus, I'm a total nerd, and I babble like a moron!"

"Well yeah," Tara shrugged. "Y-you're not cool just because you're a monster fighter."

Willow looked down, a tiny frown on her lips.

"You're a monster fighter _because_ you're cool."

"Huh?"

"You put your life on the line every night because why? Because you don't your best friend doing this on her own and you want to make a difference?" Willow nodded. "I think t-that's the coolest thing ever!"

"You…you mean that?"

"Yeah!" Tara nodded enthusiastically. "A-and the nerd thing? So what if you like to learn? More power to you! The babble I think is really cute, too."

Willow blushed, and rose up on her tippy toes before lowering herself back down, the sudden burst of joy within causing to do a little bounce. She tugged at her orange-and-grey checkered skinny jeans. "And the dressing weird?"

"I like it," it was that toothy version of her cute, lopsided smile. "If we were in a crowded room, I could find you, point right at you, and let people know that that's my girl."

Willow's eyebrows nearly vanished into her hairline (in reality, her bangs were just getting shaggy, almost flopping into her eyes when she wasn't careful). "Your girl?"

Tara's eyes widened, and her face paled. "I-I m-mean if y-y-you-"

Willow grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her down for a kiss.

The shock that sizzled between their lips made it all the more perfect. Perhaps it was the magical connection between them, primal and ancient and forever as it was, or perhaps Willow's fuzzy sweater had built up a sufficient static charge. Regardless of the source, it served as a perfect, physical representation of two souls, roaring '_Mine!'_

"I'm walking you home now," Tara murmured, lips trailing over a silky smooth cheek.

Willow smiled dopily. "Cool."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: The Real Mystery Begins**

Willow brought her knees up, chin resting atop them as she crossed her ankles. She looked at the other girl expectantly, sitting awkwardly on one of the stools around the kitchen island.

"Wh…that's great, Wills!" Buffy was ecstatic. "Scored a date and everything! Thatta girl!" The Slayer was genuinely happy for her best friend. These past few weeks, there'd been a shortage of best friend time, and now here they were, talking about relationships and stuff. A whole step up from demon-y stuff.

Willow uncrossed her legs. "Thanks," she blushed. "I…I really like Tara, y'know?"

"Oh, I can tell," the Slayer teased, snatching a freshly toasted blueberry bagel off the couner. "What with all the longing glances, shy touches, and smoochies, right?"

Willow's eyes widened. "You _know_ about the smoochies?"

Buffy nearly dropped her bagel. "There were actually smoochies?"

"Well, ah.."

Buffy squealed. "Oh my gosh! I'm like the worst best friend ever for just finding out!" The Slayer bounced on the balls of her feet, and for the now, shed the mantle of a killer. All teenaged girl, she bit her lower lip to contain the oncoming shriek.

Willow blushed in delight, both at recalling the memories and having someone to speak about it with. "We've kissed like, 9 times now!" She lowered her voice conspiringly, "and 4 of those times were with _tongue_!"

This resulted in another squeal from the Slayer, this time muffled by the bagel in her mouth. The squealing brought a rather irate Dawn into the kitchen. She scowled. "Buffy, didja eat the last blueberry bagel?"

The Slayer presented her sister with the two inch piece left. "There...is a remnant."

The preteen let out a disgruntled gurgle and proceeded to dig around in the fridge, greatly resembling her sister as she did so. "Oft!" She pulled her head out of the fridge, cold pizza between her teeth. "Gdiles saif 'at oo 'uys needta schee him."

Willow tilted her head, perplexed. Luckily, Buffy spoke fluent muffle-speak. "She says Giles needs to see us. What for?"

Dawn shrugged. Willow sighed, and straightened her legs. "Whatever it is, I hope it isn't too oogie."

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT WT

"I had to ask, didn't I?" Willow tried to keep her composure, even as the sound of Xander vomiting in the bushes hit her ears.

Despite looking slightly green at the gills, the blonde Slayer grinned at her friend. "You know better than to challenge whatever powers may be. 'I hope it isn't too oogie'? Really Wills? That's almost as bad as 'What could go wrong?'"

Giles sniffed, handkerchief pressed to his mouth and nose. "Yes, well, now that the two of you have filled your daily quota for witty banter, can we get on with it, girls?"

Willow looked around. "Shouldn't we wait for-"

CRASH! "Oh holy hell what is that smell? That is _rank_!"

"Nevermind."

Faith came stomping through the brush, and Buffy knew she was having fun because Faith could be panther silent when she wanted to be. Tara followed suit, careful to avoid tripping on anything. Art, as usual, romped after the two.

Willow smiled shyly. "Hi."

Blue eyes twinkled under dark blonde bangs. "Hey." She made to move towards the redhead, but stopped with a grimace. "Artie, go stand by Xander."

The protest was immediate "Wh-But I wanna see!" She craned her neck and going up on tip-toes to try and see over Tara and Faith's shoulders.

Tara was having none of it. A stern, "Art." And the girl turned around with a grumble, moving to stand by Xander. The girls turned attentions to the body.

Or what was left of it.

Centered in a large circle, the elements and the sweltering California heat had reduced what was once a human being to the mess that lay before their eyes. The long, brown hair and the remains of breasts were all that signified that this was once a young woman.

Distended by bacteria, the remains had burst, and quite recently if the stench was any indication. Tara felt the bile rise in her throat, but fought it down.

"The body appears to have been here for quite a bit," Giles noted.

"Oh, you think?" Xander asked sarcastically.  
>The older man ignored him, as he continued his observations. "It appears to be some sort of sacrificial ritual. Human sacrifice, obviously. Now," he gestured to Buffy and Faith, and then faltered a moment. "Tara, do you suppose Aardwulf would like a look?"<p>

Multiple eyes widened at the name, and Faith tried not to snort. "No, Giles, I'd rather not have her see this," Tara said smoothly, circling the edge of the seal. Off to the side, Art grumbled in protest, having turned herself around and glaring at a nearby tree. In, what Buffy noted, was a perfect horse stance.

Giles looked pointedly at the younger Watcher, concern etching his features. Still, Aardwulf was not his Slayer, and how Tara trained her was her business. "Buffy, Faith, what do you notice about this?"

The blonde Slayer peered thoughtfully, and then sucked in air with a hiss. She regretted it almost immediately because of the sticky stench. She pointed to the cords tying the hands in place, almost gone unnoticed due to discoloration and having sunk into the flesh as they had. "Poor girl…not a willing participant."

Faith nodded. "I doubt anyone'd be," she pointed. "Check it out." She pointed to various points from where she stood. "They bled her out slow. Lookit where she's cut."

"Glad to see you paying attention in anatomy class," Willow said, trying to alleviate the mood. Tara smiled at her.

Score.

"Tara, Willow," the two witches turned to Giles. "I don't suppose you two could lend a hand, I need to see the circle."

Willow turned green again. "Ughhh…"

Tara laughed. "It's okay, it's just levitation."

"But! But I can barely float a pencil!"

Those beautiful blue eyes seemed to smile as Tara reached out her hand. "Trust me?"

'_..with your heart? With your happiness?'_

Willow's hand grasped her's. "I trust you."

'_With everything…_

The air swirled around them, leaves kicked up by the small burst of power, and the others stepped back. Willow felt their energy connect, and only the presence of the others and the dead body in front of them helped her fight down the wave of arousal that hit her.

The combination of primal earth-magic and Tara-ness seemed to produce those results often. Oh, she hoped her palms weren't getting sweaty!

Still, their time in the park had given Willow a crash course insight in Tara-magic and how she went about it, and with their combined power the body lifted easily.

"Very good, girls," Giles ho-hummed, already sketching out the circle on an Espresso Pump napkin. "Hold it for a bit more, will you?" Willow tilted her head and grinned at Tara, proud of their accomplishment.

Sadly, anything that can go wrong, will.

Something yellow, white, and gray that may have been a breast slid off the rest of the remains, and hit the ground with a sickening SPLAT!

Artie's head whipped around at the sound. "Cool!"

Tara, ever the sheltering mother hen, immediately scolded her. "Aardwulf Frost, cover your eyes now!"

This momentary lapse in concentration caused the floating body to waver, completely under Willow's control. It swung towards the other teens milling around near the circle. Buffy and Faith recoiled, but Xander let out a muffled shriek. The chain of chaos continued, and in her surprise, Willow let the body drop.

And in an illustration of finality, corpse juice splattered on the leg of Giles' pants.

Somewhere, a crow cawed, as if laughing at them.

"At…at least you got your doodle?" Tara said helpfully.

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT

Artie sat in class, nibbling on her pencil erasure. After the eventful morning they had, Tara had marched her and Faith home, telling them that 'Everyone needs a shower. Now!' Nevermind that Art herself hadn't even been within touching range of the body, mere proximity had put her in Tara's Never Be Clean Again category.

The result was wet hair, and Dawn badgering her for what had happened, and why was she late to school.

The light flickered on and off, and their teacher stepped out, no doubt to ask about it. Honestly, it had been going on for weeks.

"So, are you gonna tell me or what?" Dawn asked, the moment Ms. Poppendorfer left the room.

She ignored the younger Summers. "You ever notice Ms. Poppendorfer looks a lot like Faith?"

Dawn shoved her. "C'mon! You can tell me!"

"Tell you what?" The two girls looked up to see Janice peering at them curiously. Artie sneered.

"You wouldn't understand."

Janice wasn't dissuaded. "Does it have to do with scary stuff?" She looked at Dawn. "The scary stuff your sister deals with?"

Art's mouth opened and closed, flabbergasted. She turned to glare at Dawn, who shrugged sheepishly. "Oops?"

"Are you guys talking about the scary stuff again?" It was Ravi, a lanky boy in their class. 'Again?' the Slayer mouthed at Dawn. "Hey, Barry! They're talking about scary stuff!" A redhead boy rushed over eagerly, and Artie was very close to screaming, 'What the hell, Dawn?' but their teacher came back.

Ms. Poppendorfer continued class, despite the sporadic flickering of lights, and when the bell rung for a quick break, the five kids stayed grouped together. In that short time, Artie learned that Janice and Dawn were 'frenemies', Ravi had a crush on Dawn, and that Barry's older brother had been the wayward victim of a possession that the Scoobies helped stop a month before.

"These guys aren't all that bad," she muttered to Dawn.

Dawn pursed her lips like Buffy. "I wouldn't say no to you doing backflips and showing up Miss Wannabe Cheerleader there, though."

Artie's chuckle stopped almost as soon as it started. Was that-? No. Nu-uh. It was…it was probably ripping metal.

Yeah.

Her Slayer hearing absolutely did not just pick up the sound of muffled shrieks, right below them.

But, if it had…

"What is up with these lights?" Janice whined.

Well, wouldn't that just show Tara, wouldn't it?

"Spooky things," she answered, rakish grin clashing with her girlish features. "Wanna solve a mystery?"


	20. Chapter 20

Title: Sentinels (Chapter 20)

Author: Starr, aka faolan228

Email: faolan228

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Starr does not own BtVS or any related works. Except for Artie. Only because no one else wanted her.

Feedback: Me gusta.

Summary: Season 1 happened as it did on the show, but everything after has been molded and reshaped to my lunacy. Moral ambiguity abounds. Lying is sometimes okay for the right reasons, and genocidal rage a perfectly normal thing for people to feel. AU W/T that may or may not be a comedy.

Notes: OH MY GOD. I am so sorry for practically falling off the edge of the earth, you guys. I've been really busy with college, and since I'm studying abroad, getting used to the culture too. Also been distracted roleplaying as vampire Willow on Tumblr _ I'd like to apologize to everyone ever, and grovel for your forgiveness. I'm gonna try for more frequent updates, like the good old days

**Chapter 20**

'Solving mysteries' Dawn had decided, was not as fun as her sister and friends made it look. It was actually a lot of hard work. Their little group had even skipped out on lunch and recess, following only Artie's hearing and, strangely enough, her nose.

"It's like, this 'rawrrrrrscreeeeee' type sound. Like the raptors from Jurassic Park?" the Slayer had explained, making little claws with her fingers and stomping her feet like a dinosaur would. Dawn nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. The others, however, stared blankly.

"I…I can't hear anything," Ravi said slowly.

"Me neither," Janice and Barry said in unison, already weirded out by the girl who could hear things other people couldn't. Dawn held up her hand to placate them.

"It's okay. She's like my sister. Super hearing and senses and stuff," A chorus of understanding 'Ohhhs' were her answer. Artie rolled her eyes. She supposed Buffy-and Faith-she reminded herself, would have saved enough lives in this town to be a sort of 'open secret' amongst the people. The older folks, grown ups and teenagers would have come up with some sort of theory. But kids like them? Like her? They could accept the truth of people fighting away the monsters, and acknowledge their presence as a fact.

Children, Tara had told her, believed. They were sensitive to the supernatural in a way that was almost instinctual, before society dumbed down their senses and told them the truth was fiction.

It was also, Tara had told her again, one of the reasons why children were such prime targets for demonic predators. All that fear, all that potential….and despite her playful personality, Artie remembered the things Tara instructed her to read. The stories Tara would read _to_her, over tea but never right before bedtime, of Watchers and Slayers and witches who came before.

That something was underneath a school full of children, well…

Lucky she was here, right?

-

"Lucky you're here, isn't it?"

Tara looked up from where her nose was buried in a large leather tome, blue eyes lighting up at the most welcome sight in the library. "Willow!" Her eyes widened at her unintentional outburst. "I-I mean, Willow, hi." She smiles sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Not a problem," the redhead beamed. "Glad to see someone's excited to see me. And before I let in on your gift, so I know the excitement is all for me."

"Gift?" At that moment, Tara was suddenly aware of the heavenly scent wafting through the room. "Coffee?" She almost panted. "You brought me coffee?"

"And a muffin," the redhead said proudly. She plopped into the seat next to the young Watcher, scooting closer til they were thigh to thigh. "Mocha for me, and a half Brazilian, half hot chocolate with a shot of hazelnut for you."

"Well look at you all hunter-gatherer," Tara batted her lashes, nudging Willow playfully.

"What can I say?" Willow basked in the attention. "When my girl's been in the library for hours, it's good to make sure she has refreshments."

"I-I like that," Tara practically purred. "When you call me that." She pressed closer, nuzzling her nose. "Thank you," she breathed, sealing their lips together in a kiss.

Willow sighed into the kiss, suddenly feeling very refreshed herself. "Gets better every time," she whispered. She leaned closer, chasing after Tara's lips as the other girl pulled away with a coy grin. "C'mere you," the redhead growled playfully. "I want my Tara smoochies." Her hand rested, palm flat against Tara's thigh, and with the added leverage, caught those pouty lips once again. Tara gasped as Willow's fingers twitched and squeezed her thigh.

"Ahem."

Both girls sprang apart, wide eyed and gasping, to the sight of Giles, already at work cleaning his glasses. "Miss Tiler, may I ask how your research is coming along?" Despite his stance and tone, Willow could see the small smile playing at his features. Tara, having not known him as long, did not.

"It…It's coming," she squeaked, while mentally kicking herself at her choice of words. While both were doing the same job, Rupert Giles was a senior Watcher, a superior of sorts. To have been walked in on like that was mortifying.

"I was helping Tara," Willow said smoothly. "Wasn't I Tara?" Her girl nodded her head eagerly, gesturing to the book in front of her. "What are we studying anyway?" Willow stage whispered.

Tara held up the copy of 'The Enchanted Bestiary' to a suddenly very excited Willow. "I'm on the winged beasts chapter. Did you know Gryffins are really proud creatures, and can harness the sun's energy for their magic?"

Willow let out an enthusiastic, "Cool!" and scooted even closer than before, practically on Tara's lap, eager to learn more.

"I'm reading up on dragons," Tara explained. "See, every few days, I pick a new creature or demon and make Artie research it. Facts, mythology, legends, stuff like that. I figured since she likes dinosaurs so much, she'd love to learn about dragons. After she turns in an essay, we go over physical methods on fighting them."

Willow smiled admirably. "You're a good Watcher, you know that?"

Tara chuckled. "Of course you'd consider the homework a bonus. Hey, look at this," she points to a passage. "Though aerial predators, dragons prefer living in subterranean dens. Though they're carnivorous, they also feed on the magical energy of an area. They can even use it to breathe extra years of life into someone."

Willow looked absolutely delighted at the thought of it. "Wow, just think! We're on a Hellmouth, and we've got lots of underground caves and tunnels. We might have a dragon in Sunnydale and we wouldn't even know."

Willow's enthusiasm was infectious and warmed Tara's heart, the flush on her face warming other places on the witch, too. "Willow," she said softly. "I was wondering…"

"Yes?"

"D-do you wanna come over later? I know we have plans for this weekend already, but I really like spending time with you." She was blushing, she could feel her face burning.

"I love spending time with you too," Willow said. "Of course I want to. Have anything planned?"

Willow's acceptance greatly increased her confidence. "Oh, I don't know," she smiled. "Maybe work on some lesson plans," she gestured to the book between them. "Watch some TV. Maybe even make out."

"Oh, I'm there," the redhead said with a giggle.

Giles, still standing there the whole time, decided to walk away before the two young women attacked each other again, though the smile didn't leave his face. Young love amongst magic texts and research. It certainly reminded him of the less dark days of his youth.

-

Artie frowned and exchanged a look with Dawn as the lights flickered on and off again. "Woah, isn't that Ms. Poppendorfer?"

The two girls looked up at Ravi's observation, just in time to see their teacher disappear into a janitors closet. "That's odd," Artie muttered.

"Yeah," Dawn agreed. "What would she be doing in there? She isn't a janitor."

"Um, hello? Scooby and Scrappy Doo-fus?" They turned to stare, unamused, at Janice. "Somebody probably just puked? And she's getting cleaning supplies?"

10 minutes later, when their teacher failed to emerge, it was obvious she wasn't getting supplies. Still, the ragtag group of kids sat and waited. It was only after Dawn and Janice lamented the drainage of their shared juice box that their teacher emerged.

They all ducked behind the corner. "She looks…different," Barry whispered.

"Yeah," Dawn agreed. "What do you say Artie?"

Silence

"Artie?" The young Slayer had slunk away from the rest of the group, slipping into the closet as their teacher walked away, head held high, heels clipping. The other four raced to catch up. "What are you doing?" Dawn hissed.

"There's nothing here."

Dawn was having none of it. "You know all the weird stuff in this town, why would you run off like that?"

"Dawn, there's nothing here."

The skinny brunette stopped her Joyce-like tirade. "Oh." There really was nothing in there. Nothing unusual, at least. Just the typical janitor's closet type things.

"I told you," Janice sing-songed, even as Ravi and Barry looked disappointed the lack of a mystery. Then, Artie's head cocked.

"Shut up."

"Excuse me? Rude much?"

"No," she held up her hand. I mean, shhh." The young Slayer threw herself against the back wall, ear pressed to it.

SCREEEEE

Oh.

Fingers searching, she gasped, eyes wide. Impossible for the eye to see, but easily felt, there was a seam in the wall.

A door.

Grinning triumphantly at her classmates, Artie puffed her chest out. "I don't suppose you guys would be willing to meet here tonight?"

Plans were made, watches synchronized, and excuses made up as they returned to class. When the final bell of the day rang, they each made their ways home. To get ready.

"Hey, Dawn?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone yeah?" She kicked at the dirt. "I wanna solve this ourselves. Maybe then they'll be more willing to include us in all the other adventures."

Dawn giggled excitedly as they walked home, both inflated with their preteen sense of importance and wisdom. "This is such a great idea! This will be _awesome_!"


End file.
